Decimated Dreams
by Subject Matter
Summary: Everybody wants to be a tribute in district four. Apart from Derryl. He'd rather be eaten by a man eating hedgehog than be reaped. Unfortunately it looks like both are going to happen to him...
1. Derryl's Reaping

**Decimated Dreams**

**A/N: What goes on, fateful readers? This is Subject Matter and Let The Foxx Fly, joining forces to create this story for yous. From this point on, Foxx and I will have separate Author's Notes. SneverusSnapers might just help us later! (If you see any parentheses, Foxx and I are debating something). **

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 1 - Derryl's Reaping**

I had dreams. Once, before everything shattered. Died. Decimated. I had a life, once upon a time. When my mum was alive, Diamond didn't exist, and I wasn't reaped. Before my life ended, and I began killing.

It all started on a normal day. As normal as a day could be, considering it was the day of the Reaping. I was getting dressed in my bedroom when Sahara, the cutest little pet mockingjay, started cawing. She never did learn to love the shack Diamond, my step-mother, forced my dad and I to move into.

I took a glance in the cracked and dusty mirror, noting my hair was in disarray, the dark blond locks falling into my eyes. I made sure that my necklace with a shark pendent rested in the crook of my neck, as I headed through the curtain that divided my space from the rest of the shack. My tread seemed awfully loud on the rotted wooden floor, creaking with every step. My father was waiting at the warped dinner table, wincing as my footsteps echoed around the house. Diamond just glared at me, disgusted by my presence. I momentarily wondered what she was doing in the shack my father and I were forced to live in, but she was there with her bastard children, all of them staring at me.

Their death stares always made me feel self-conscious and insecure. They were always thinking that they were much better than me, and their glares almost made me feel that way. Diamond sneered over at me, and I felt an urge to go around and yank her hair out bit by agonizingly purple bit.

Diamond was my stuck up step-mother, who was deported from the Capitol for multiple counts of adultery. She married my father for his money, and used it to buy herself a mansion, get her skin dyed a bright yellow, and her hair was made the ugliest purple. Her children came from the multiple pieces of Capitol trash she had affairs with, but they were all dyed to match her shade of coloring.

Under the glares, I lost my appetite for breakfast. Subtly rolling my eyes, I pushed past them and headed out the front door, grabbing my father's jacket and dragging him with me. I was determined to never see their disgusting faces. A smirk played across my face at the thought. For it was the reaping to which I was headed.

My father tried to wrench himself from my jacket, complaining.

"Derryl! You let go of me right now, young man, or-" I blocked him out as I so expertly learned how, and I released his jacket from my grasp. I kept walking at a resilient pace, determined to get to the Reaping as fast as possible.

Upon arrival at the town square, I found that I was one of the first to present themselves. There was only one chubby boy in the pen of fifteen-year-olds. The girl's section was only dotted with possible tributes. The crowd was filled with people nonchalantly betting on the age and reaction of those tributes selected. I wondered if any were betting on me.

I joined the chubby kid in my section, and not-so-patiently waited for the rest of the square to fill out. When the square was finally full, our helpful resident Capitol representative, Beatrice Gramp, cheerily greeted us in her eccentric accent. Taking the stage, our mayor, Bruce Puff, gave the boring, monotonous speech we were all used to. I sighed. The reapings were always so tedious.

"And may the odds be _ever _in your favour," Beatrice squawked in her strange accent. I started to pay attention when she reached her hand into the glass container filled to the brim with slips containing the names of the some 700 girls in the district. Beatrice squeaked the name out loud.

"Sasha Twiff." I didn't recognize the girl, but when she stood up from the 12 year-old section, her whole slight frame was shaking with silent sobs, with her elbow-length red hair bouncing along with her. She shakily walked up to the stage, and I could hear the murmurs of disappointment. No one liked it when the younger years were reaped. When she took her seat, the Gramp woman continued.

"Derryl Flywood."

"WHAT!" I yelled out with all the voice I could muster, interrupting her before she could even beckon me towards the stage. She stared at me quizzically, as did everyone else in the crowd. Tributes weren't supposed to speak out of turn.

I stepped forward resiliently, ignoring my dad's insistent yelling. I refused to look back into the crowd, even when I sat down in my pro-offered seat. Beatrice continued to close the speech. Before I could even think of glancing back towards the crowds, Peacekeepers surrounded me and Sasha, and we marched towards the city hall, where people came to give us tear-filled final goodbyes.

My plan had been destroyed by the fates. I hadn't been able to save some poor child's life, but was forced to instead follow the Capitol's orders, effectively killing myself. My plan had been to volunteer, not be reaped like so. When I was sat down for my final good byes, my father was already rushing in.

"I can't believe you, being reaped **(A/N: At one point, it said 'raped'. xD)** like that!" Father roared, tears streaming down his face unashamedly. As if it was my fault. He then burst into sobs, and I had to comfort him for the next five minutes.

"I-I just want you t-t-t-o win-n." He hiccuped, before the Peacekeepers came in and forced him out.

I wasn't expecting someone else, but here _she_ was. In living purple.

"You better _die_ like the filthy brat you are, so I can comfort your dad into giving me _my _money." I glared at her. It took all my strength to not scratch her eyes out then and there. She abruptly left, my string of curses following her. I knew that was the end, until another visitor flew in, cawing her way through the window pane.

I was, to say, surprised when Sahara promptly landed on my head. I stroked her soft feathers, and whispered to her.

"You aren't supposed to be here. I'm leaving soon, go!" I all but yelled the final word, and she flew away, hopefully back to the shack. Her caring brought tears to my eyes, and it was the most heartfelt goodbye I could have hoped for.

The Peacekeepers came rushing in to discover the reason I was yelling, just to find me smirking up into their confused faces.

"We're leaving." The burlier one grunted, and he promptly grabbed my arm and dragged me to the train station. I barely had time to focus on the gleaming beast of a transportation vehicle it was until I was forced in, the door slamming into my back. Here I come, Capitol. To win the Hunger Games.

**A/N:**

**We hope you liked the story. Don't look at Subject. He doesn't like fingers pointed at him.**

**Are we deleting it? *GASP* HOW DARE YOU. We could put it on the bottom as an ending A/N. Hahah... maybe... Mindless rambling, don't pay any attention to it.**


	2. Maia's Reaping

**Foxx's A/N: G'day mates! Hope you all enjoy this chapter that we've both equally worked on, hehe. Jolly good show, folks.**

**Subject's A/N: Hello readers! This is the second installment of the fic Foxx and I working together, Snev would be here, but she is currently MIA. This character was all Foxx's magic. Read! If you're wondering how we can update a story live from thousands of miles away, thank Google Documents. (And yes, I am a lovely purple pickle)**

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 2 - Maia's Reaping**

I smirked in delight at the thick, leather-bound wallet in my hand. The Peacekeeper never noticed my long fingers slip into his back pocket. How easy it is, to just take things like that. This wasn't my first theft, far from it. I've been managing to steal silently since I was six, now fourteen, when my father died of cancer. Funny how the Capitol can fix everything _except _the problems that ail their districts. It's not that it matters though, I hardly remember him. If he was worth anything, I would have more memories of the man who impregnated my mother.

"Maia," Jessamine's voice called out from behind me. I turned to face her, the smirk still cosily sitting on my face. "Did you do it?" I held up the wallet in response, widening my pride-filled smirk. She smirked back, grasping a gleaming pearl bracelet, obviously one of wealth. We high-fived, laughing. The Peacemakers passed by us, too high and mighty to pay any attention of us useless district teens.

"Where's Leela?" Jessamine asked, calling my mum by her first name, as usual.

I paused for a moment, thinking. "Pretty sure she's in the office, marking some of her students' stuff or something," I replied, not really caring where my single guardian was.

"But it's reaping day!" Jessamine squealed, her face pale with tension. The Reaping was always a tense time for her, seeing as how she lost her only brother to the brutal death sentence.

"We need the money, can't blame her," I said, shrugging it off. If mum wants to work, she works, that's fine with me.

It was a hot day, the air thick with humidity and suffocating tension. No one was ever relaxed on reaping day, especially in here in district seven. We've had a few Victors over the years, but only on the odd rare occasion. Most of the time, each tribute fell under death's kiss and never returned, sending our district into mourning.

As we made our way down the street heading towards town square, I noticed a group of adults talking in hushed voices by the jewelry store. I smirked, once again. For Jessamine and I both knew their topic of conversation. Only late last night did we shoplift a heap of goods. They were all oblivious to us. The adrenaline rush from being a thief is a thrill like no other; one that sends you on a pleasure-filled high.

Although they threw no suspicions our way, we quickly walked past, determined not to show any signs of guilt. Once around the corner, Jessamine and I burst into a fit of giggles. We were partners in crime and the closest of friends. I don't know where I would be in life without her. The reaping was just at the end of the street and the overflowing crowd was prominent, my sight focused on the pen of fourteen-year-olds to which we were headed. I hate large crowds in tight spaces, it makes me claustrophobic; one of the many reasons I hate the Hunger Games.

Our obese district escort, Nicolia Freel, elegantly helped herself to the podium. "Good morning, district seven, and welcome to a new year of the Hunger Games!" The crowd seemed to moan in unison, a collective sigh filling the air. Odd, even for my standards, I began giggling, amused at the ridiculous accent Nicolia portrayed. I almost never giggled. I promised to myself it wouldn't happen again.

Once I was done mentally slapping myself for giggling, I went back to paying my attention to the reaping before me. The town's mayor was saying his speech, the same as always, explaining in great depth how these Games are our punishment for rebelling, but how it was an _honour_ for us to serve the Capitol in that way.

_Honour my ass. Puck you, Capitol,_ was all I could think. I had to stop myself from flipping off the mayor, even though he did nothing wrong. Although giving him the bird was tempting me, I forced myself to listen to the female tribute's name to be called out when Nicolia pulled out a slip of paper from the glass jar.

"Maia Quill," she read, peering at the name on the slip of paper in her hands. She unwittingly pronounced my first name wrong, but, when I smirked over at Jessamine, her face was frozen in pure shock. I did a double take, letting the events of the past few seconds sink in. Was I just reaped? I looked to Jessamine for confirmation and she only nodded solemnly, slightly pushing me forwards.

I took a few steps, muffled. What was going on? Suddenly it all dawned on me. That was my death sentence. _Well, _I thought, _If I'm going down, I may as well go down with some pride, and a few tributes. _And at that, I held my head up in pride, my nose turned up at the sky, and I strode up to the stage. Upon shaking Nicolia's hand, I cocked my head to the side with a teeth-filled smile. Looking miffed, she all but shoved me towards my seat.

_Maybe acting all macho will get me some sponsors. _I stayed seated, keeping a straight face, as Nicolia strutted over to the bowl filled with male names, her heels clicking loudly on the wooden flooring of the stage. When she reached her hand in, her 'talons' almost speared through the slips of paper, about to snare more than one.

Retracting her hand from the bowl, she read aloud the name of the poor soul to be reaped, "Saxon Grey."

A man stood up from the seventeen-year-old section. He had his head down, but a determined posture, as a tall boy, presumably Saxon, made his way to the stage where I was seated. His hair was cut closely shaved, his build strong and stocky. I wondered whether he was going to be a formidable contender in these Games. We shook hands and his grip was firm. I smiled up at him, but he kept moving towards his seat.

The reaping ended quickly afterwards and we were sent over to the building where we would receive our final goodbyes. On our way there, I noticed I hadn't even seen my mother once through the whole reaping. Was she even there? If not, then she wouldn't even know I have just been signed off to death himself.

The room the Peacekeeper escorted me to was scantily decorated, just two threadbare chairs divided by a table. It was awfully small, bringing back the feeling of a claustrophobia. I sat and waited for someone to waltz in and wish me goodbye. And waited. And waited. Finally, after a Peacekeeper had warned me that I only had one minute left for visitors, Jessamine ran in, panting.

"I," she gasped, "couldn't find the correct room!" Wheezing, she continued, "I have some really bad news! It has to do with your-" She was interrupted by a Peacekeeper rushing in, grabbing her by the neck of her blouse, and yanked her out of the room. I gaped, unsure of what to make of it. _What was she trying to say?_ My mind reeled, still trying to get my head around the fact that I was heading into the Hunger Games.

"Time to go," a Peacekeeper, different to that of before, came in, ordering me to leave. Soon enough, I found myself settling into a seat on the train, saying my last goodbyes to my home, certain I would never come back.

**Foxx's A/N: Hope you liked! Last chapter was mostly Subject, this one was mostly my creation. If you hated it, loved it, or it made you claw your eyes out, let us know! Click the review button below.**

**Subjects A/N: Another chapter cranked out! Please make sure you give Foxx all the credit for this chapter. R&R because this very well be the first Hunger Games fic that has co-authors! Please press the magic button that feeds the starving children! Snev was actually here, editing what she felt needed. Thank you Snev**


	3. The Goings On Of The Train Ride

**.Foxx's A/N: Greetings fellow fanfictioon pioneers. Take note, that although Subject said 'G'day mates', he is not from or near Australia. I'm the pure Aussie here and proud of it. Anyways, enjoy this chapter! (:**

**Subject's A/N: G'day mates! If you have found this chapter, you have made a few very hormonal oriented teens happy. This is another Derryl chapter, brace yourself! I am a very true American, thank you very much.**

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 3 - The Goings On Of The Train Ride, Derryl's POV**

I took my first tentative steps onto the train and was immediately shocked when my eyes fell on the scene before me. Sasha's adorable demeanor from before was completely dropped and standing before me, the twelve-year-old was unrecognizable. A ruthless expression sat firmly on her face, and she was staring everyone down. I dimly noticed Beatrice Gramp cowering in the corner, frightened into submission.

Unfazed, I strode to the upturned couch and flipped it over, sitting down on a plush cushion. _If Sasha wants to act like a freaky evil girl that she really isn't, then that's fine with me_. As if she sensed my thought, here unwavering gaze focused on me, and a spark of fear flowed through my brain. I automatically stood up, assuming a defensive pose.

The room fell silent, thick with tension as Sasha and I death stared each other to no extent. I didn't even notice the two unknown people sitting on the couch I had recently left. They looked almost... bored. The anger that was previously filled me gushed out, and I sagged onto the couch, the wear of the day catching up to me.

"So," The woman with black curls began, presumably one of our mentors. "Have you too met before?" Sasha and I both shook our heads, and the lady kept questioning.

"Nevertheless," she continued, "What amazing skills do you two posses? Or would you rather meet with your assigned mentors separately?" We both looked up to her, questioning looks on our faces.

"I'm Rosalina Faye, your mentor," she pointed to Sasha.

"And I'm Bevan," the noticeably stocky man said with a slight, disinterested wave directed towards me. I nodded in reply.

"Are you kids just going to sit and stare at us? Or will you answer Rosalina's question?" Bevan glanced at his partner.

"I'd prefer to speak to Rosalina alone, thank you," said Sasha, suddenly perky and calm.

"Alright then," Beatrice said, having reassembled the mask of calm she usually wore.

"Your mentors will lead you towards your bedrooms and talk to you there." Bevan grabbed me by the arm, tugging me after him.

The room that welcomed us was an array of amazing architecture, far greater than any you find back in the district. Although we were on a train, the ceiling was vaulted, and I could have sworn the walls were made of some type of marble.

Bevan gestured towards the couch that was situated in the middle of the enormous room, and we both sat down when he began to speak, "Okay, first off, you should know, I hate kids. Secondly, you being from district four, my boy, are joining the careers, no buts about it; and thirdly, you have to listen and obey everything I say, or the few sponsors you _might _get will only send you dust." I gaped up at him, surprised at his surly attitude.

_You'd think he'd like kids, considering he has to teach them to survive._ The thought swam to the forefront of my mind, and I almost missed to next part of his extensive speech.

"Now, that display of pure loathing you shared with that girl, Sasha, was unacceptable. Bouts of rage will _not_ help you survive these games. You need to control yourself, but, more importantly, stay away from her in the arena. She will _not_ hesitate to kill you when she is allowed to." I opened my mouth to reply, but he cut me off, continuing, "And when you ally with the Careers, you have to turn on them before they turn on you. Become the leader of the group. Gain the sponsors. Hoard all the supplies. And be a deserter. It won't help to have you leave running for your life, with nothing but the clothes on your back."

Finally he stopped, giving me a moment to absorb all the advice he threw at me. I already new which tips not to follow. He should've known I would have other plans. "Anyways," he said, "I need to know what skills you've got." He said it as an order, not a question, which greatly annoyed me. _Screw anger management,_ I thought snidely. _It'll help me survive._

"Do you want a list?" I asked, putting as much sarcasm as I could into those 5 simple words.

"Don't fool around, boy. I'm not taking any bullshit from you. Yes, give me a list." I knew he would make my life living hell if I continued pestering him, but I did anyway.

"Well, that sucks. Because I happen to be the _master_ of bullshitting around." I continued to toy with his emotions. His face contorted to one of pure rage, his skin a bright purple. _And I thought _I _had anger management issues._

A vein pulsed in his head as he continued to speak through clenched teeth and pursed lips, "I thought that this year's tributes had a _chance_. I guess I made too many assumptions." The image of hate, he stormed out the door as fast as possible.

As I stared at the door after him, absentmindedly, his voice came yelling back, "By the way, we're watching the reapings of the other tributes now. Come if you want! Or just stay there like the insolent little brat you are. Your choice."

With a smirk, I got up and followed him down the hall.

**Foxx's A/N: This chapter was completely joint between me and Subject, both putting equal input. Hope you liked, and don't forget to review. I'll give you cookies!**

**Subject's A/N: Ooh. Derryl's the newest badass. I wouldn't want to clash with Bevan like that. R&R, because Foxx and I shared the work equally here!**


	4. When Watching Others Reaped

**Foxx's A/N: G'day Matey Poos! *Chest pumps!* I'm a girl who chest pumps people. Awkward, but true, get over it. We've written another chapter, Subject and I. We make good writing partners, eh? Hehe, happy reading, :)**

**Subject's A/N: Hey there friends o' mine. Here's another Maia POV chapter. We are still working equally, and have still not had any violence. Which is pissing me off. Anyway... Read and Review! :P**

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 4 - When Watching Others Reaped, Maia's POV**

It was hard to believe that, just six hours ago, my life was ended by a simple slip of paper bearing my name. Stupid reaping, it's probably rigged. Not that I can change anything. Saxon hasn't said a word since we arrived on the train, which is seriously starting to creep me out. Maybe he's a mute. Or one of those Avoxes our new mentors are whispering about in the corner.

The television before us flickers on, but I'm not sure who's doing it was. The room falls quiet as the recap of the reapings played out on the screen, introduced by the symbol of Panem. I tuned out the first three districts, preferring not to watch the careers, but my attention resurfaced when a loud 'WHAT!' screamed through the speakers. My eyes trained on the male tribute, of average height, with long blond curls falling to his shoulders. I caught his name. Derryl.

I had to admit it, he struck me as cute. I shaked the thoughts away. _I can't think about other tributes like that. They're what stands between me and coming home, back to the bad news Jessamine was trying to tell me. _The girl tribute from district four, Sasha I recall her name was, was the most adorable twelve-year-old on the planet, if I must say so myself. Although she had a deep, dangerous glint in her eyes that was hard to ignore.

I watched the reaping of the tributes from each district play out one-by-one, a solemn expression on my face. The girl from district six struck me as odd, with a rat-shaped face, upturned nose, squinted eyes, and what appeared to be whiskers, thought it was hard to tell. Not quite catching his name, I decided to call her _Rathead_.

Then, district seven. I watched as Nicolia wobbled up towards the podium, too fat for her own sense of balance. We could literally see her legs wobbling from the weight. The camera angle accentuated her double chin nicely. Too my right, Nicolia sDerrylered, obviously amused by her 'wobble'.

_She must think she looks so perfect. _The thought rang throughout my head. _As if she deserves to flaunt herself. _I watched as she stuck her arm down deep into the bowl and reaped myself. It was as if I was having an out-of-body experience, watching my own self stride towards the podium. I looked a lot more confident than I felt.

_At least I didn't let any emotions show. _Said a nagging voice in the back of my head. I hushed it to be quiet whilst I watched the rest of the reaping. Saxon looked just as formidable, depressed and slightly intimidating when watched from a different angle. I took a side glance at him sitting on the opposite end of the couch - he showed no reaction to his own moment on the television recap.

The rest of the reapings recap went by rather quickly, but my mind paused at the district ten boy; he looked like a normal boy from ten would, short, thin, almost twig like, with brown hair and eyes the color of mud. But the way he held himself struck me. He continued to stare directly at the camera, and his eyes held a glint of menacing malice. He looked almost feral in his snarl.

I shivered inwardly at the thought of meeting him in the Arena. He looked like the one who could kill you while _laughing_.

The district elevens were your average bunch, and so were the twelves, except for the girl. There was something off about her. She wasn't intimidating or threatening in any way, but the opposite. She had a crazy out-of-it look to her and a strange waddle to her walk, as if she never quite learned the correct steps her feet need to take. A word pulled at my mind. _Autistic_. A disease of the mind, in which the way the victim processed information changed with each word.

Depending on the environment, she could either slay us all, or blubber pathetically until someone picked her off. The Capitol representative for the district, a Betsy Guard, looked absolutely appalled at having to shake the hand of this girl. You could see the strain in her face, she obviously wanted to pull away from the 'retard' girl's hand and wipe her palm on her pants, several times. When the broadcast ended with a final flash of the Panem seal, my mentor turned towards Saxon and I.

"That was good guys," Nadelle said softly, nodding towards the now blank screen.

"Well, at least they didn't break into a fit of tears," Damien said absentmindedly, as if he forgot of our presence. My glare aimed towards him was lost when he started staring off into space again. These are probably the worst two mentors in the history of Panem, all they do is stare of into space and mumble soft things every blue moon. I know I should have been grateful towards them, but all I could do was wonder how they won their own Hunger Games. I suddenly felt very alone, and I couldn't help but wish my mom was here to guide me through this.

"I'm going back to my room," I announced softly, standing up from the couch. As I headed back to my assigned bedroom, I couldn't help get my mind off that boy from district four. I knew it was bad to think of him that way, I did.

_Stop it, Maia. Don't think about any of the tributes like that, ever. _Mentally slapping myself, I slipped passed my door and collapsed onto the bed. It had been a long day, and soon I was deep asleep before my head hit the pillow.

**Foxx A/N: You know what, it's so much more fun writing a story joint partners with someone than it is by yourself, like a loner. I think I'm going to do this more often. Don't forget to press that big fat review button below and tell us what you think! Honestly, I go against Subject Matter's violence ideas, but you know, we'll just go with the flow.**

**Subject A/N: I hoped you lazies liked this installment of Decimated Dreams. I know Foxx agrees that this is so much better working with a partner. I still think the story needs a little more violence, but what'dya know! I might get lucky. Don't listen to Foxx spoil my fun... **


	5. Skinned Alive By Stylists

**Foxx's A/N: Obviously, since you've read up to this chapter, you do like our story some-what. Or else you're a creepy fifty-year-old pedo stalker. If that's the case, then you are unwanted. Leave, now. Other than that, enjoy the chapter and don't forget to review! Love your friendy, Let The Foxx Fly. xo**

**PS, Don't request for any violence from Subject Matter, I'd rather leave Subject waiting. Thank yous, greatly appreciated ;)**

**Subject's A/N: If you can read this, you have come the right place! It also means you have a brain and can read. Hoepfully. It would also be advised that you ARE NOT an alien. You are most likely being chased by the US army. Read, review, and request for SOME violence. Pretty please?**

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 5 - Skinned Alive By Stylists, Derryl's POV**

I woke up the next morning not remembering when I had fallen asleep, but I managed to stumble out of bed and hit the showers. A panel unlike any I had ever seen was embedded into to the white bathroom tile, and I managed to hit a few buttons. I let out a surprised scream as ice-cold water splattered out from the shower head. _How the fudge do you work this thing? _

I obviously chose the wrong expletive, because the next time I hit the panel, soapy foam seeped out from a dispenser against the wall. Giggling my ass off, I managed to turn the cold water off. After a series of trail-and-errors, I managed to get a gentle flow of warm water, finally washing away the remains of sleep on my face.

Relaxing under the torrent, I took some time to organize my thoughts. _Okay, so yesterday I was reaped, got intimidated by a twelve-year-old, managed to piss off my only mentor, planned to blatantly disobey orders, got my face shown on TV across Panem, and I was fooled by a bathroom panel._ Figuring that was the gist of it, I stepped out of the shower after being successfully pruned, and dried myself off with a towel so fluffy I was lost in it. I sighed, _fluff is such a girly thing to put in a male tribute's bathroom._

A knock on the door followed by Bevan's voice alerted me, "Get up, breakfast has been out for twenty minutes!" I smirked, taking delight in imagining all the different ways to piss Bevan off to the extent he will explode in a burst of anger.

I hastily walked over to the closet, and grabbed a simple emerald green shirt and some black shorts. I strolled out of my room, taking my own time. In leaving my room. When I finally arrived in the dining area, my jaw hit the floor at the vast array of food that lay before me. Meats, drinks, cereals, breads, there was a huge helping of everything. Everyone glared at me when I took my seat, but I ignored them. _Do you think you could beat my step-family in that category?_

I just smirked at Bevan, enjoying the lovely shade of purple his skin turned. Smirking seemed to become quite a habit of mine.

"Sit down and eat," Bevan said strictly. I wasn't going to complain, I wasn't planning on starving myself. I grabbed a plate and loaded everything from porridge to croissants onto it. I dug in, forgetting the art of table manners and instead opting to inhale everything.

When my stomach felt like it would burst, I finally put my fork down, decidedly having eaten enough. I glanced across the table at Sasha, who was still ravishing the food that was towering on her plate. _Where did she get all the space to fit it all? _Beatrice gaped at the two of us, obviously disgusted at our bad manners. Her face had even turned a delicate shade of green. I took an orange slice and jammed it into my mouth, grinning at her like an idiot. She practically gagged at the display.

"We've already discussed this with Sasha, but now that you're here, Derryl, we need to tell you about your stylists whom you will soon meet," Rosalina said softly, looking up from her now empty plate. "These stylists will be getting to know every inch of your bodies, as they will be personally defining each of your looks. Do whatever they ask you to do. You will need it for the opening ceremonies. This goes for both of you," she said, nodding towards Sasha as well, and directing a pointed glare at me.

"As soon as you're _both_ done, you can get off the train and enter the building to your right. There you will meet your stylists on the fourth floor," Bevan said, picking at a bread roll. I was surprised when he said we could get off of the train, I hadn't realized that we stopped. "Yes, that's right," Bevan said to me as if reading my thoughts, "you slept in so late that you didn't even realise the train stopping in at the station."

I swallowed back all of the sarcastic retorts that bubble to my lips and pushed backwards from the table, striding through the train door without a look back.

When I hit the station, I immediately turned to the right, burst through the double doors, and smashed the elevator button, my fury coming out in bursts. As the elevator doors were closing, Sasha slipped in between them and stood next to me, silently fuming as well. We rode up in silence, and I realized how much shorter she was, compared to me. She barely reached my shoulder. Determined not to break the silence, I disembarked from the elevator as fast as I could. I looked left and right at the doors until I saw the one with a simple engraving on it. _Stylists_. I strode through the door, not caring to knock, and I almost stepped on a minuscule man, who hastily picked himself up off the floor. He quickly grasped my hand and led me to another door to the right, titled _Male, _walking with me silently, as if I needed a chaperon.

Suddenly I was greeted by a flash of colour. Three equally rainbow-died people welcomed me, presumably my stylists. The first was a girl of small stature and an eccentric clown-like wig of colours, blazing out like an Afro of sorts. The second was a man who appeared to be quite old, but any signs of age obviously shrugged off by plastic surgery. His eyes were died white to the pupil, which was eerily creepy, and his skin an odd shade of green. The last was also a man, but he was very young, early twenties would be my guess, and seemed the most sane out of the three.

"Welcome!" said the girl cheerily, with a high-pitched voice. "We're you're stylist crew! I'm Vaniqua, this here," she said, gesturing to the older man, "Is Tobias, and this young fellow, our newest member, is Zeek."

They didn't give me any time at all to reply and I was suddenly bombarded with a series of scratching, yanking, and pulling at the hairs on my body. They, thankfully, didn't take all of them, just a large portion on my neck and chest. I was twitching from the constant action, and the rest of my clothes were suddenly removed off my body (**Subject's A/N: Such a big chance**! D:), and my cheeks flushed red, embarrassed at standing stark naked before the group of strangers. They didn't leave any room for modesty, and I was suddenly dunked into a bath of balms, creams, and lotions until my skin literally glowed.

"You need to see your actual stylist, now that you're prepared." Vaniqua jumped in, handing me a robe made of paper to cover myself. I sighed in relief. _Finally the torture has ended, I thought I was going to be skinned alive._

The three quickly fled the room, and I sat in anticipation for this new person who would be dictating every part of my visual appearance.

The double doors opened up with a prolonged creak, followed by a tall woman who walked with grace and held an elegant poise. She looked almost normal, with barely any Capitol enhancements. Her brown hair was held in a loose bun, and her eyes reminded me of the deep blue before the darkest night.

"My name is Honey." She spoke with a resounding voice that echoed multiple times around the room. I found myself fascinated by her stance. She was beautiful, I had to admit, and that's saying something considering she's from the Capitol. I had to shake my head to get rid of the thoughts and focus on the matter at hand.

"So what outfit are you dressing me up in for the opening ceremonies this year?" I asked as Honey did some last minute prodding and plucking her crew must have missed.

"We have quite an idea for you. What do you think of seaweed?" She asked, a glint of amusement in her eyes

I paused at the thought. "Seaweed?" I gulped. I wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing, noting the many different possible outcomes.

"Yes, seaweed." And with that I trembled, nervous and worried I would be dressed up as one massive string of seaweed.

**Foxx's A/N: Lalala, SEAWEED! Don't you just love seaweed? There's so many things one can do with seaweed. So many things... *starts laughing hysterically*, anyways, review! You know we love you ;)**

**Subject's A/N: Yessums! I am in fact your resident pervert. Seaweed is going to be FUN! I'm almost drooling at the thought. Press that magic button on the bottom. NOW! This was meant to go out a day ago but, silly me, I forgot!**


	6. Seaweed Underpants and Talking Trees

**Foxx's A/N: G'day all! Welcome to chapter six. Now, maybe you'll get to find out what happens with the seaweed for Derryl's outift... **

**Subject's A/N: Hello those who are viewing this! If you believed me, you'd know that every single chapter has been made in this one day. HAHA! Triumph! Merry Seaweed!**

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 6 - Seaweed Underpants And Talking Trees, Maia's POV**

Staring at myself in the mirror, I gaped. Really? This was the best my stylist, Mylan, could do? _The incompetent fool couldn't even design a pucking tree correctly!_

I was a tree. A mother-flipping tree. A tree that creaked with every movement, and my arms were jammed in a permanent upward position. I was forced to waddle, taking baby steps; my feet made immobile by the awkwardly tight tree costume.

"Isn't it just brilliant?" Mylan asked with pride and awe.

I gave him a look that screamed 'I look like a PUCKING KINDERGARTNER!'. "It's the most amazing thing I have ever seen!" I squealed, dripping with sarcasm. He obviously didn't catch it, because his answering squeak was astonishingly high pitched for a man. It was even high-pitched for a woman's standards.

A Capitol attendant strolled in,alerting us that all tributes needed to be downstairs for the opening ceremony in ten minutes, and the tributes had to be paired up and settled within five. Mylan made an amusing face of utter distraught, as if he thought he would lose his job if he didn't get me there on time. I vaguely wondered what Saxon would be wearing.

"Quick, let's get you down there!" He squeaked. I had enough of his squeaks, squeals, and screams. It was enough to make any girl go banshee and rake his eyes out.

We reached the elevator just as Saxon and his stylist arrived and I got to see he was dressed in an equally horrible tree suit like myself. _At least we can get embarrassed together._ My thoughts flickered to the boy from district four. No doubt he's in scantily clad nets to accentuate his 'sexy' side. District four always has the 'sexier' tributes.

The elevator opened up to the basement level, where all the cariages sat, positioned in order per district chariots were being prepped and fine tuned for us to be flaunted around the Capitol like the pawns we are. There are no amount of swear words I can use to express my hate towards the Capitol. Rebellion? Hell yeah.

Surprisingly, I found the we were the very last tributes to arrive and everyone else was already getting themselves seated in their carriages, impatiently waiting for our arrival to start the ceremony. The careers from district one shot pointed looks at us, wanting to get on with the show. We hastily stepped behind the 'reigns' and, suddenly the procession started moving.

District one, two and three were the norm, but I hesitated at four. There he was again, Derryl. I did a double take. There he was, and I could see a lot of him. His whole upper body was bare, shining with the light, and presenting a faint set of muscles. His legs were bare, too. And at his groin (**Subject's A/N: Eep!**) was a thick mesh of tightly bound seaweed. It reminded me too much of seaweed underpants and I had to look away. It looked too uncomfortable.

His district partner, the girl Sasha, also wore a revealing seaweed suit, but it covered more of her legs, appearing as short-shorts, and the mesh of seaweed at her chest was made out like a tank top. Not much cleavage was showing. It was obvious that _their_ stylists had sense. At least their costumes were actually appealing and would gain them sponsors, unlike some tree - like people. And I'm not just referring to Saxon, here.

We were escorted to our carriage and were told to position ourselves in preparation for the upcoming event. A flock of butterflies took nest in my stomach as the wheels started rolling. District one received the expected applause for their extravagant bedazzled gowns that shimmered like diamonds in the light. District two's careers were both equally intimidating yet beautiful, thanks to their stylists who weren't in love with _bloody TREES!_

_Why is every district getting awesome stylist except mine? _I wondered, but a voice in the back of my head answered the question for me. _Because you're a good for nothing, dirty thief._ I shoved that thought back into the dark abyss it belonged in, and the march of the chariots continued on. A show of electric cables shined from district three's tributes, wrapping around their bodies like cords, and again the crowd roared at the dazzling sight.

I held my breath as Derryl and Sasha from district four's chariot set forth. They got the loudest applause of all. Of course, the crowd loved the sexy beasts they posed as. Suddenly a pang of jealousy hit me in the pit of my stomach. I felt queasy and had to pause to regain my breath.

While getting the air back into my lungs, I had missed the carriages containing the tributes from districts four, five, and six. All too soon, our carriage hit the edge of the light. When we passed through the rim, a stunned silence hit us like a pile of bricks. Followed by a collective laughter, the whole crowd cheering uus on in mockery.

A blush spread from my cheeks to my neck, and even tinged my ears pink. I felt like a tomato tree. I had to bite my tongue, a split second from cursing out everyone in sight. I knew we'd be the laughing stock of the Capitol.

"This feels like shit," I stated, not directly talking to anyone.

"Complete and utter shit," said Saxon. I stared at him. Those were the first words he's said since the reaping.

"I didn't take you for the kind of person who swore." I whispered back to him, as the chariots for districts eight, nine, and ten collected behind us. He grinned back at me, but didn't respond. All the chariots were finishing their second circuit, and we found ourselves back to where we started.

The tributes disembarked their chariots, and district-by-district, headed to they elevator that would take them to their assigned floors. Saxon then tapped my shoulder, motioning for me to get in the elevator. Just as the elevator door closes, a hand comes in, stopping it, followed by Derryl from district four. If it was awkward watching him from afar, being stuck in a tiny elevator with him and his seaweed was just maddening. Saxon didn't look very comfortable, either.

"Nice tree suit," he said whilst pressing the fourth button on the elevator.

"N-Nice seaweed p-pants," I stuttered on my words, awkwardly blurting them out. He chuckled in reply, and I inwardly cursed myself. I pressed the seventh button on the elevator, and we started moving.

It fell silent in the small space and again I felt claustrophobia settling in. _Is it me, or was I the only one who felt awkward in that elevator? _I later asked myself when I almost tripped out of the elevator on our floor. We'd already said our subtle goodbyes to Derryl as he left on the fourth floor, and now Saxon and I were welcomed into the place that would be our home for the next few days.

**Foxx's A/N: Mwahaha, not everyone can have amazing costumes like The Girl On Fire! Hehehe, so close to the Games already! You guys do realise Subject and I have written all these chapters in one agonizingly long night? *Yawns* Anywho, whether you liked it or hated it, let us know! Click the big bad button below! (Omg, that rhymed! *sniggers*)**

**Subject's A/N: I was practically dying of laughter on this scene. Poor trees. Oh well, better luck next time. Please review and tell Foxx her readers want violence! You know to drill, clicky the button. NOW! IF someone sees Snev, tell her to get her butt over here!**


	7. Training Day 1: The Girl from Seven

**Foxx's A/N: Good evening sweetypies! Although it's actually 3AM, which I'm not sure is classified as night time or super early morning. And there is no sun in the sky. Not that I'd check, it's bloody freezing outside, it being winter in Aus and all. On another note, enjoy this chapter! Finally Derryl and Maia get to have some proper interaction :3**

**Subject's A/N: Good morning sunshine! Although it isn't morning, and the sun is covered by clouds. It's more like 1:10 PM. No, mean old Foxx still won't let us have anything good in this chapter. This is still the same day as the last 6 chapters!**

**SneverusSnaper's A/N: Yes! You have heard me mentioned about a million times no doubt, but now I'm here! Out of the three of us I am probably the one with the most writing experience, having written a full proper length story. However I am probably the only one out of he three of us, as Subject Matter kindly pointed out, that cannot spell 'experience'. Maybe discarding Foxx, who cannot spell yogurt pot. (which I just misspelled). I am in with them though, a few hours after being asked and about six chapters later. I mean - how quickly have they written? I will have to get around to the reading the earlier chapters soon. Ah well, it can't be helped that I'm a lazy sod. Basically I'll be on and off this. I am a backup for Foxx and Subject, I've a lot of other things to do as well. But I will be here, just maybe not as much as the other two.**

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 7 - Training Day 1: The Girl from Seven, Derryl's POV**

"WAKE UP SLEEPY HEAD!" The yell sounded oddly distorted, it was only Beven trying to piss me off, as usual. I flung the blankets off me, stormed up to the door, flipped it open, gave Beven the middle man, then slammed the door in his face. _Well, this is fun._

"Does poor Derryl need his beauty sleep? Well you ain't beautiful, and you can't sleep, today's the first day of training." Bevan bellowed, his fist slamming into the mahogany door. Despite my neglect to obey his orders, he continued yelling through the door, "In training, join up with the careers, show them you're in charge and that you won't take any of their crap." When I still didn't reply, he screeched, "Great, just _great!_ If you want to die in three days, then that's fine with me!" He kicked the door a final time, and it rattled in it's frame. He didn't realize that I was brushing my teeth, but it's his fault if the door hurt his foot. I chuckled softly to myself.

I threw on the clothes I was wearing before my outfit for the opening ceremony - it wasn't _that_ wrinkled. When I stepped out the door, two servants rushed to my side and all but pushed me to the dining area. Once again, I was late to breakfast, although that didn't bother me. When I was pushed into my seat, I looked across to Sasha, who was giving me an ugly look.

"What are you looking at?" I asked through the delectable blueberry muffin in my mouth.

"Nuffin'." Sasha said through her mouth full of food, which drew a laugh from everyone at the table, even Beven, which caused everyone else to go silent, including me. It was a surprise to see Beven in such a good mood, especially after what was said between us that morning.

While we were still gaping at Beven, Rosalina interrupted the silence.

"Oh my goodness! You're late!" her soft voice broke us all from our stupors, and we rushed to get downstairs to the training area.

I never knew that the number 'four' could look so desirable when pinned to my back and my front, yet it didn't. I guess after the whole seaweed escapade everyone seemed to expect everything and for me to be as groovy as a hunky funky chunky monkey. No pie. Seriously now though, after last night's chariot rides everyone seemed to be looking at me differently, especially the guys. The girls had some weird look I had never seen before and the guys had a look on their faces which is a lot more common around me - hatred. But also I saw a glint in their eyes, the same glint my wicked-mother gave my father when she first saw him. Jealousy.

I tried to shrug it off and swagger the best I could towards the training equipment. It seemed I got here quite late since the only tribute to join after me is the girl from seven, a sour expression pasted onto her face. I wonder what's bitten her, she probably got up on the wrong side of the bed. _That or the fact that she's in the hunger games_, I find myself saying to myself in my mind. I'm snapped out of it almost immediately by myself realising that I'm approaching the rock climbing section. However much I hate Beven I have to seem like contender, and by doing that one of the worst things I could do is rock climbing. I let a gentle hiss escape my lips and turned to the left of me, trying not to seem like a total idiot. Unfortunately the space to the left of me, the bows and arrows station, is already occupied. I tried to smile in a half hearted way at the girl from two who shot and arrow straight at the target, just reaching the rim of the bulls-eye. This is it. This is when I prove myself. This is when I... drop the bow and all of my arrows, scattering across the floor

The training instructor is nowhere in sight so instead the girl rolled her eyes and stomped towards me. After a slight pause she held out her hand.

"Belladonna, my friends call me Bella."

"Bella then." I nodded.

"No, you're to call me Belladonna."

"So I'm not a friend?" I asked, in light of the awkward pause that followed.

"No, and if you're not a friend that makes you an enemy here so stay out of my way."

"Okay..." I murmured and slowly staggered away from her, trying not to look particularly dazed as I left.

"One more thing. If I find you within a mile radius of me in the arena-"

"What shape of mile radius?" I cut in.

"Does it really matter?" She hissed.

"Yup." I insisted.

"Elliptical then," she hisses.

"But round objects make me look fat!" I grinned at her while she just glared.

"Listen kiddo, I don't know your game and I honestly couldn't care less-"

"But why wouldn't you care about me? I'm adorable!" I interrupted her, enjoying the simmering anger flashing in her eyes.

"Right, that is it! I have had enough with you, you punk!" Belladonna yelled angrily and whipped the bow, primed with an arrow right at me and let it spring forward into my direction. I yelled a yell of absolute craziness and I hit the deck, the deadly weapon whizzing just above my chest, myself able to feel the air being sliced above me as I dived out of the way. Suddenly the peacekeepers which I didn't even know were present at the time, were onto her in a second, and she was quickly hidden underneath a flurry of batons and screams of anger to keep order. It finished as hastily as it started, and Belladonna was dragged screaming out of the room in a few mere seconds, barely enough for the other tributes to understand what had gone on.

"See you in the Games, Bella. I hope you enjoy your _elliptical of safety._" I muttered under my breath, and, before I knew it, Maia from seven was examining the place the arrow had embedded itself into the wall.

"A few milliseconds late, and you'd have been between this arrow and its friend here." Maia murmured in a sort of snide way. I glared at her while she was rapping the wall with her knuckles impatiently. When she saw my eyes boring into hers she hurriedly scampered back to the knife throwing stalls and picked up a knife. As I watched her carelessly flick it round her hand with great ease as if it showed her no trouble at all. I thought back to it, _I was an inch from death and I wasn't even worried. Well, now I think about it, I'm a bit more worried now, despite the fact that Belladonna's gone._ _What was I thinking, winding her up like that? Though I suppose there were some funny moments in there,_ I think back. _"But round objects make me look fat..." seriously, s_ly tactic? Nil.

I'm surprised I wasn't punished right along with her actually, now that I think about it. I provoked her. First Beven, then Belladonna, seems I have a habit of provoking people and winding them up. _But you've got to admit, _I think with a smirk, _it is quite fun._ I pause, looking around the room. The tributes were scattered sparsely throughout the stations, keeping to themselves. The only social interaction going on was between the careers.

The boy from ten was making an average job with the camouflage, but there was an obvious strain on his face as he looked towards the weaponry stations. He was someone to watch out for. After a moment of pondering, I decided to go to the edible plants station. I hesitated after a few steps for I noticed Maia was already at home in the station. Shrugging off any arriving thoughts on the girl, I made my way over there.

I walked through the archway that divided the station from all the others, and for the first time noticed the series of parallel scars running vertically down Maia's back, made faintly clear by her tank top. She was hard at work with the instructor - a short, stubby man with a barely bald head - studying the array of plants on display, too preoccupied to notice my presence.

"Hi," I started, not sure of what to do.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be, Career-boy?" she spat back suddenly, not even glancing my way.

"I- I- I'm only here to learn some plants," I said, stuttering on my words. "You can stick to your own business and I'll stick to mine." I headed over to the opposite end of the station, now determined to purely annoy her by standing there.

Maia paused, looking up at me from the plants before her. "Look, _Derryl_," she said, over-enunciating my name, "by the end of this week, only one of us will be alive. So I sure as hell aren't looking to get buddy-buddy with some new friends."

I laughed, a hollow, dry laugh that sounded nothing like myself, "And you were getting the impression that I _was _looking to getting buddy-buddy? Don't kid yourself."

_Why am I provoking everyone today?_

Making a face, she stuck her tongue out at me oh-so immaturely. It fell quiet and the instructor sent me a pointed look, obviously annoyed at my interrupting of his station. Irritated by the turn of events, I subtly left the edible plants area. For the rest of training that day, I made an obvious point as to avoid Maia.

I just couldn't get my mind off her.

**SneverusSnapers' A/N: So yes, that's me, SneverusSnapers. The creator and accidental deleter of a front-page-when-searched-forum, the author of a Hunger Games fiction which is fifty chapters long, not mention the sequel and the prequel. Yeah, I may have accidentely deleted this chapter a couple of times too. Luckily Subject Matter has a back-up, or had before I accidentally deleted that too. ;D I'll call myself an array of names from now on, Snev mainly.**

**Foxx Likes Pumpkin's A/N: As yous can see, Snev has now joined our gang in co-writing this story. Don't forget to give her some of the credit. Now press that awesome review button below! :P**

**Subject's A/N: Snev has definitely started out with a bang. Almost the entire chapter was made by her. I didn't have much influence, as I'm still dying from a very unhappy nose. Hit the review button... NOW.**


	8. Training Day 2: Maia's POV

**Snev's A/N: When it's early in the morning and you're hyper you are bound to do strange things, one of those is of course writing. So here I am, tapping away at my keyboard without a care in the world and along comes Subject Matter and Foxx and together we weave a beautiful sculpture that we call this story. You can evidently tell I am on a sugar rush. Never ever, ever even try to drink a whole bottle of Pepsi Max when any decent person would be sleeping. It is not advisable. Seriously. Don't.**

**Foxx: Bonjour mon amis! Welcome to our story. C'est la vie. I'll stop speaking French now. Anywayayays, enjoy XD**

**Subject: Ahh, the wonders of a new chapter I had no part of... sorry if I'm dying from a runny nose so bad I had to stuff a tissue into my nostril. Happy reading**

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 8 - Training day 2: Maia's POV**

Never ever, ever even dream about going to a Capitol party. It is not advisable. Seriously. Don't. The first dinner after training was just a snippet of one and I never ever want to have to attend one of those dire events ever again in my whole entire life. No joking for once. They seem to think that the only thing a party needs is food. And more food. And if that wasn't enough, even more food yet again. Then they would probably throw in some extra food for good measure. But, god forbid, they didn't want to forget the food! I managed to stagger out of the room eventually, clutching my stomach in agony and groaning in pain. It wouldn't be a treat for the Capitol to have poisoned one of their tributes before the games, but it looked like that's how it was going.

"I never want to see another pie in my whole life." I practically shriek, just as if that was enough an Avox shoves a platter full of normally delicious looking cream buns - which looked like they could murder the president and his wife, if he even had a wife that is - right into my face. I struggle not to spew up the contents of tonight's orgy onto the platter, the best I could do was to pull myself away and stagger to the window, leaving a dazed Saxon in my wake. He ended up shaking his head solemnly to the Avox; at least trying to be polite, and dashing off in the direction of his room almost immediately afterwards.

I battle with the window's barriers but it won't budge. It looks like they don't want any of us tributes throwing ourselves out windows. I can't help but scoff, they do that to enough of us eventually, one way or the other. I try to vent my anger out of me somehow and end up going for the good old insults, so I start shouting offences at random Capitol passers by and as the time goes on my insults become more and more extravagant and wild.

"Sucker-of-breath-and-life-and-death-and-all-things-generally-and-remotely-humane!" I gasped for breath after my long string of insults and am greeted by an amused chuckle. I turned around to see the boy from four next to me. _What is his problem, is it his mission to stalk me or something?_ I kept my glare hidden though and turn away from him. He caught himself staring and then turned back away. I sighed reluctantly, we were going to have to face up to each other sooner or later. It's best if I made the first move. I spun around and offered my hand.

"Maia, district seven, tree girl. We didn't properly introduce ourselves at training today."

"Nice to meet you tree girl. I'm Derryl, district four." he said, unsure of what to do with it when he eventually lifts his hand for my shake. I sigh and let it drop limply down by my sides.

"Seaweed boy." I not-so-helpfully finished off for him, and then I shook my head while walking the other direction. Not a single word more was shared between us.

I was in the worst mood possible when I walked into the training centre the next day, Saxon trailing lazily behind me. _He can go stuff himself,_ I thought, _if he wants to follow me all day like some obsessed puppy, then that's fine with me._ But he soon enough split ways and headed to the camouflage station. I stormed towards the knife throwing station, fuming. If anyone else was in the station, they had better watch out, because I was going to do some serious venting. And that venting included throwing knives with deadly speed.

_Nadelle and Damien are the best mentors in the world, just fabulous_. I think snidely, sarcasm enriching me. When I think about it, I use too much sarcasm, but that should be the least of my worries. What; with twenty-three other children out to get me. It's just pe_rfect_ that my mentors can barely speak, let alone handle sponsors. Last time I checked, you needed a voice to talk.

I threw a knife with a curved blade at a dummy, still fuming about everything. I had a right to be busy. Derryl, the pompous brat, was over at the edible plants station, looking like a lost child. I laughed, and imagined the dummy I had just skewered was one of my less-than-competent mentors.

When I glanced over at the archery station, I realised _she_ was back. _I guess the juvenile detention center closed early today, _I thought, watching Belladonna let an arrow fly. It landed with a _thunk_ on the outer rim, as if her focus was on something, or someone, else. She was glaring murderously at something in the edible plants station, and I had a feeling that it wasn't the _Rubus idaeus _that the instructor had put on display.

I quickly dropped the remaining knives in my hands, and headed over to the knot-tying station. Knot tying wasn't the station I had in mind, but just about every other one had a career wasting space.

The male instructor looked extremely bored before I strode over, but once I had joined his station, he seemed overjoyed. I had a good feeling that knot-tying was not a popular station. Soon I learnt why; or rather, I didn't. Whomever had taught my tutor clearly hadn't taught even himself properly and it showed.

"Then you um... err," He stuttered helplessly. I had no time for 'helplessly' so ended up snatching the rope out of the instructor's sweaty palms.

"Seriously? You call yourself a rope instructor? You probably don't even know what rope is made out of!" I snapped at him.

"I'm sorry if my teaching is not completely satisfactory..."

"Satisfactory? I could iron a giraffe quicker than you could tie a knot. You're completely useless!"

"Iron a giraffe?" He asked, puzzled as he propped up his glasses that had sloped down his nose in a superior way.

"It's a figure speech." I hissed and then I flung the rope into the air, only to see it whack the autistic girl from twelve on the head. Luckily she started clapping and laughing happily, but that was also an 'unluckily' since all of the Gamemakers' heads whipped around (well, the ones that weren't busy being stuffed with the array of food from the service buffet that seemed to follow them around) towards me, but I managed to scamper away towards the next station which happened to be the mace and chain section. Firstly, I had no idea there was such a thing as a mace and chain section. Secondly, what kind of freaky section is that? _Something to do with swinging around a spiked stick no doubt._ I sighed and ruffled my hair slightly but stepped up to it, not wanting to give my rope trainer any satisfaction from the distraction he caused.

I picked up the smallest weapon possible at the station, ignoring the eager trainer as long as I possibly could. I was surprised at the lightweight feel of the spiked ball and chain, and I bludgeoned a few dummies. The trainer in charge of this station was trying to speak to me, but I turned my attention back to Belladonna, who was giving Derryl another death glare. _No surprise, he deserves it._ I wondered what happened to her. Eventually I turned back to destroy a few more dummies, but a tall figure was standing in my way.

The instructor was about twice my height, and four times my weight. His face was a putrid purple, obviously from irritation at none other than _moi._

"What. Do. You. Think. You're. _Doing._" He spat out through clenched teeth.

"Err, destroying dummies that have a striking resemblance to the rope trainer." I managed to say.

"Oh him, right then, continue on." He said adamantly and stepped to me past and I continued destroying dummies. When I thought deeply about it, the dummies _did_ have a striking resemblance to the rope training instructor_. Something about the dumb look on their faces._ I glanced back at the edible plants section, but the boy wonder had already moved on to, you guessed it, the mace and chain station.

The instructor's rage evaporated at the thought of having _two_ tributes join his station, and he eagerly launched into an explanation of the strategy behind using a mace. Derryl looked interested, and I tried as much as possible to take no notice of him. I continued to butcher the dummies with renewed anger, and, before I could move on to a better station, the Gamemakers called us in for lunch. _Here come the Gamemaker's sessions._

**Snev's A/N: Heh heh heh! Writing with these two has officially convinced them I am illiterate, but it's just the speed that I type - really fast; compared to the speed the computer picks it up - really slow. So yes, another chapter in the bag.**

**Foxx's A/N: I love the speed we're updating this at, hehe :3 Anywho, the big bad button below. It rhymes with view and starts with R. Guess it? You got it! On another note, don't forget to eat some pumpkin soup, it's very yummy.**

**Subject's A/N: Ooh! Next chapter: The Gamemaker meetings! I'm trembling in excitement. Ever since Snev joined the team, the chapter's have gotten longer. Give her a round of applause! Anyway, click the review button. You know you want to.**


	9. Time To Meet The Gamemakers

**Foxx's A/N: G'day my sweets. Having a jolly good time? Well you will be if you read this chapter. Enjoy! PS, I like pie. And I'm super duper hyper - I don't normally do all-nighters, I'm staying awake on adrenaline alone. **

**Snev's A/N: Hi everyone. Because us three have completely different time zones spreading across fourteen hours, me slap bang in the middle, I have found that the only time all four of us are on is my equivalent of really early in the morning. It's a shame because I'm always really tired and off key when I write these. PS, I am in love with Foxx and Subject, literally.**

**Subject's A/N: Hi there! There isn't much to put in this A/N, so enjoy! I'm tired, but don't tell Foxx! P.S. We haven't put this in before, but the main idea of Hunger Games is the sole property of Suzanne Collins. If you sue us, take all the empty coke cans as you want, it's all we have.**

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 9 - Time To Meet The Gamemakers, Derryl's POV**

The third day of training. One day closer to our deaths. To be honest, for a man who was about to die, I felt _normal_. It was if I had just woken up, back in the shack, to my dad waiting with hot tea at the ready. I smiled at the flood of memories that swam to my mind. Some of them were actually enjoyable, except for the image of Diamond within them all. She was like the smudge on a beautiful painting, like a virus. Infected and ugly.

The day passed uneventfully, for the last day of training. Sasha and I floated from station to station, and I kept a wary eye out for Maia and Bella. _Maia, why couldn't I get her out of my head? And why was Bella being so sadistic? Someone must have crapped in her cereal. Speaking of which, maybe I should go do that, just to annoy her. _Before I knew it, the Avoxes were shoving us toward the dining area for lunch in the politest way possible.

I quickly plopped down in a seat, ignoring Sasha as she quickly moved to sit with the Careers. It was quiet in the dining room as everyone ate their lunch alone, keeping to themselves The only ruckus was coming from the Career table, where Sasha and the tributes from districts one and two were laughing raucously at some joke the girl from one - Viola, I think her name was - had said.

Scanning the room, I noticed Maia stand from her seat across the room. Glancing at her quizzically as she strode towards me, it dawned on me exactly what she was doing. _Damn, all she does is follow me around like a lost puppy!_ With a smirk on her face, she cheerily helped herself to the seat opposite me at the table, ignoring my usual death glare.

"Hello there," she says with a wave.

"What happened to not getting buddy-buddy with anyone?" I spat back, meanwhile taking notice of her blue eyes, how clear they are, shimmering like the ocean.

"Oh, that? That ended the second your _friend_ over there," She gestured to Belladonna sitting with the Careers. She continued, "Narrowly missed impaling you via an arrow." I glanced at her quizzically, and she just grinned back.

"Besides, you looked _so_ lonely over here, pouting and sitting by yourself." I punched her in the arm, not missing the wince that flitted across her face. She dug back into her plate, obviously stunned into silence.

I laughed slightly, "Yeah, but _everyone_ is sitting by themselves - besides the careers."

She looked around her as if it was the first time she's actually realised we weren't alone in the room. In mock horror, she exclaims, "I never noticed!"

I shot a lopsided grin towards her and continued eating, my eyes following her every move. _I really am getting obsessed with this girl_.

"You're drooling in your food," Maia said half-heatedly whilst nibbling on a bread roll. She gave me another pointed look and returned to her plate.

We ate for another ten minutes like that, exchanging insults back and forth. Our mindless banter was interrupted by the Head Gamemaker arriving.

"We need," He glanced at the clipboard clutched in his hand, "Victor, from district one." I looked over to the career table where a stocky eighteen-year-old - Victor - stood from his place, his shadow casting a threatening veil over all sitting at the Career table. He casually made his way to the double doors that led to the Gamemaker's area where our skills would be judged, our talent tested, our training scores determined.

I heard Maia snickering across from me, and I took another glance at her. She really was pretty with her dark, wavy hair slightly covering her grey-blue eyes. _Snap out of it you idiot! You're going to have to kill her! _She caught me staring at her, and I quickly looked away.

"Think about it, Derryl. _Victor the victor."_ I laughed at the thought, and almost missed the fact that she called me by my first name, not 'seaweed boy'. I couldn't help but feel pleased at that.

Fifteen minutes passed in silence, as us tributes sat in anticipation. As I started to get bored, the Head Gamemaker stepped through the double doors, looking flushed and clinging on to his clipboard in obvious shock, with the male tribute no where in sight.

"V-V-Viola, please." He stuttered out, and a girl with bouncy strawberry blonde curls stood up. I noted Sasha's murmur of good luck, and turned my attention back to Maia.

"She looks too.. _fashion model_ to be a contender, right?" Maia announced as soon as the double doors closed with a _click_. She brushed her hair behind her ear and leaned back in her chair, relaxing.

I suppressed a laugh at the looks on the Careers' faces when they heard her slanderous remark. "They don't seem to like your disrespect for one of their pack, do they?" I whispered back at Maia, gesturing scathingly at the newly dubbed 'pack'.

Maia didn't respond, instead opting to fiddle with the eating utensils still in front of her. I continued my examination of the fine grain in the table, and waited for the Head Gamemaker to stick his head through those double doors.

"Thor, from district two." Came the wavering voice of the Head Gamemaker yet again, calling for a burly 16 year old a head taller than me and probably fifty pounds heavier than any of the tributes. Thor stood up and sauntered towards the door with a disgusted look on his face. I heard a hiccup, and looked over to the Career table, where Belladonna was giving me her usual incisive glare.

"So Derryl," Maia said with a start, breaking the silence, "What's your plans for your session, eh?"

"That's for me to know, and you to never find out," I said with a wink, tapping the side of my nose. "What about you? Any hidden talents I should know of?"

"Well, I _am_ pretty good in _bed._" She said with an obvious whisper. I rolled my eyes at her, and she just giggled as the tributes closest to us balked at her.

Playing along, I launched into a very detailed and very fictional story on how many women I had bed back in my district, and the same tributes exchanged looks of horror. After a pause, I asked, "Wait, how old are you, again?"

"Fourteen." She responded, with mirth in her eyes, "You?"

"Fifteen," I nodded in reply.

Around an hour later, the Head Gamemaker stomped through the double doors, calling a name I dreaded to hear.

"Derryl, from four." I stood up, my legs numb and my mind blank as to what I was doing. I dimly thought I heard a _'good luck'_ from Maia, but I couldn't be sure.

**Snev's A/N: I managed to contribute a whole sentence and a half to this chapter! Ok, I wasn't exactly onto this one but it was fun to read and I will be onto the next one - watch this space... (Ok don't, it could get a tiny bit boring)**

**Foxx's A/N: Voila! That just reminded of Viola, the D1 tribute, haha. See what we did there? Named her after an instrument, how clever. ;) Did you love this chapter? Hate it? Tell us below in a review. :3**

**Subject's A/N: Ahaha! The title lied! The suspense is killing me as to what Derryl will do! Not really. Us fancy shmancy co-authors already know what's next, but you humble readers may not unless you click that shiny review button that keeps our brains alive and running! That little bit on the forbidden 's' word was purely our teenage minds at perverted work.**


	10. Beam there, Killed that, Thrown that axe

**Foxx's A/N: Hey y'all! Enjoying the show so far? Hahaha. Happy days, happy reading. PS, I really like pie. Like, a lot. Especially the ones with potato on top. Yep, those are the best. The .**

**Subject's A/N: **_**I love Foxx forever and always, to the ends of the earth and back. It's very true. **_**Why thank you Foxx, for the loving introduction. I'm going to keep it here because it'll be the only memory of her until her 10-day hiatus ends. Cross your fingers for blood in this chapter. We'll miss ya Foxx!**

**Snev's A/N: Foxx decided it would be funny to re-do all of our A/Ns into a "slighly" flattering way of herself. You've seen Subject's. You really don't want to see mine, it would probably be censored on here. Now Foxx is gone for 10 days... FOXX IS GONE FOR 10 DAYS! Yay! Par-tay!**

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 10 - Beam there, killed that, thrown that axe, Maia's POV**

"Good luck," I muttered under my breath as Derryl left for his private session with the Gamemakers. Solemnly, I watched as he made his way over to the double doors that would lead him to the adjacent training room. His blonde hair was flicked off messily to the side as if he only just woke up. I had to admit, he was so cute.

_Stop, Maia. Stop thinking about him like that. You know only one of the kids in this room are going to come back from the arena alive, right? _A voice at the back of my mind was pestering me, pushing further thoughts of Derryl away for later. I cocked my head down, averting my eyes, letting my dark hair fall over my face and obscure my bright red cheeks from view.

One-by-one the tributes were called and Derryl's absence from the table made me feel more lonely than ever. I knew I shouldn't, but a part of me was desperately hoping he did okay in there. He had such an unsure expression on his voice that it was hard not to be worried. The rathead girl from six was called and I looked across to Saxon, knowing he was next. And then after that, was me.

I had no idea what I was going to do. Throw an axe around - my specialty, toss a few knives vigorously at dummies. I had to make an impression if I wanted a good score. A good score was key in surviving in the arena. And I needed the sponsors. _Who else would save me? Derryl? He's just another one of those Capitol pawns. _

"Saxon, from district seven." A piercing screech echoed throughout the room as his chair scraped along the tile floor. I couldn't help but wince at the sound. Slightly hunched over, he strolled across the room, all eyes on him, heading to the double next fifteen minutes was awfully prolonged; a painful wait. My mind reeled, uncertain. I had a nagging hunch that I was going to fail miserably, and I began to regret not attempting to train with any of the axes in the training centre.

"Maia, from district seven," called the name. My heart beat sped up instantly, my lungs were on fire, my whole body stiff. The built-up tension came flooding onto me and I froze, gaping.

_It's now or never. _I stood, ever-so slowly, taking care to not let the chair screech against the floor. Eyes were gnawing their way into the back of my head and I walked unflinching towards the double doors. A wave a musty, suffocating air slapped me hard as the creaking doors welcomed me into the training room to which I would give the Gamemakers a show.

My chest was thumping hard, my brain beating against my skull. For a moment I wanted to just stop then and there, and give up. Slowly making my way towards the weaponry stations, I instantly spotted the axes. A smile happily played across my face as I reminisced working in the woods. There was such a variety of axes here though, with countless shapes and styles. Their blades shimmered against the lighting and I paused, letting my fingers scroll along the tips.

My hand closed around a sturdy axe with a plain wooden handle, similar to those from home. At the hilt, a series of entwining leaves was engraved elegantly into it. My shoes tapping against the floor echoed throughout the room and suddenly it fell eerily quiet. I walked back over to the Gamemakers, noting only half were paying attention to my presence. The others were stocking up on piles of food.

I made an unattractive growling noise, which gained me a few attention points, but nothing that would get me the score I needed. A handful of Avoxes entered, presenting platters of food and alcohol. My mouth dropped, jaw scooping down the floor. _How can they expect us to show them our skills if they're eating mountains of food in front of us once starving children?_

Storming, I dragged a dummy into the centre of the room and expertly threw my axe at it. It was an inch off the bulls-eye, the Capitol axe's weight unfamiliar to my hands, but the Gamemakers didn't even notice. They were too preoccupied with stuffing themselves to no extent. I was fuming, smoke practically spewing out from my ears.

In a fit of outrage, I took a strong step, heaved my weight forwards and let my axe fly towards an oncoming Avox carrying a platter of meats. The instant the axe left my hand, I regretted it, for it was headed straight for the mute's head. Fortunately for him, he had a good enough sense of reflexes to dodge backwards, letting the axe hit the roast pork instead.

I was relieved, the Avox wasn't dead. I averted my attention back to the Gamemakers who were now very alert and muttering softly together in a huddled group. One pointed back to the Avox I nearly hit and I turned to see the roast my axe had hit had been pinned against the far wall perfectly. Now I had their attention. Without a moment's pause I snatched another identical axe and tucked it into my belt then glanced at the beams on the ceiling and knew what I was going to do.

I hurriedly scrambled to the top of the artificial tree in there; at least there was one advantage in living in a district surrounded by trees. I didn't even have enough time to think it through my glimpse of a plan properly before I had launched myself off the top and was flying through the air towards a ceiling beam. The beam hit my hands hard and against all of my automatic reflexes I hugged onto it tightly so I could keep up. Slowly, not wanting to fall down to the floor, I pulled myself up as elegantly as was possible for me and ignored the creaking beam's splinters digging into the soles of my feet as I slowly crept up onto my feet, trying to stay balanced. The moment I was standing up I realised that I had no idea what I was going to do when suddenly I noticed the axe I had tucked into my belt earlier.

I let the axe fly viciously through the air and watched it rotate around, cutting through the air like a knife would to butter. The axe plummeted at the wall and I could barely contain my laughter as I hit the meat on the wall in the exact same place as before. There were even more whispers coming from the Gamemakers so I decided to give them something to really whisper about. I dug my toes into the beam for a good grip and stretched my arms out into the air by me for balance. I could barely stop myself from toppling over and used my momentum to propel me forward. I ran across the beam as quickly as I could and just when it turned I launched myself into the air at the climbing wall. I managed to grapple onto it and found my feet's grip faltering so turned my heels backwards and slid down until I reached the bottom.

Then I not-so-gracefully collapsed on the floor until I managed to pull myself up and face the Gamemakers head first. I decided it was best not to get on their bad side so I did a quick bow and murmured if I could go. The head Gamemaker gruffly nodded and I politely bowed again and backed out of the room and barged right into that moron, Derryl, from four who whipped around and glared at me. He had slipped out of an alcove to the left, and I saw his eyes were red and puffy and he sneered at the sight of me.

"What's bitten you?" I asked.

"Leave me alone you bitch." he growled.

"Is that meant to be funny?" I snapped.

"Not as funny as your face." Derryl sneered.

Suddenly, uncontrollably, my hand wrapped around the base of a lamp that looked too comfortable sitting on a table. I threw it with as much force as I could muster, and it shattered a nearby window, shards flickering through the air. To my dismay, although I really badly wanted to hurt him, a shard caught Derryl on the arm and I saw blood seeping through his shirt. Before I could feel any pain in my heart, Avoxes came rushing to the origin of the sound, and I quickly faded into the background, knowing that, whatever was going to happen, the consequences couldn't be good.

**Foxx A/N: If you review, I'll give you my pie. No joke. *sends sample of virtual pie***

**Snev's A/N: Oh yeah I'm speedy, I wrote most of this chapter, I am so awesome! And all of you remember - while a chapter a day keeps the doctor away so does a machine gun...**

**Subject's A/N: Snev's making my craving for a machine gun grow higher. Enjoyed the little work I did? Good. You won't see any more. I'm kidding, I wouldn't abandon you guys! Please tell Snev to stop making Derryl look like a wimp. Please.**


	11. Keeping Score

**Snev's A/N: **_**I am not writing this chapter at the moment, Subject is doing all the work! I did all the work on the last chapter. Eep! ...**_**I'm actually getting kinda fed up of everyone else writing my A/Ns for me. First Foxx, then Subject... next thing I know I'll actually be writing my A/Ns! *cue face of mock horror*!**

**Foxx's A/N: I am currently on a 10 day hiatus. Please tell Snev and Subject that I miss them! *End pre-recorded message***

**Subject's A/N: Chapter eleven! Yay! Maybe, soon, hopefully, the reviews will really start to kick in. Please read, and give Snev and Foxx credit. I've done a third of the plot, so have they. They deserve it.**

**~SFS~**

**Chapter 11 - Keeping Score, Derryl's POV**

_The lamp in Maia's hand flickered off as it was yanked from the power outlet. When it the window it flew into shattered into hundreds of glittering shards, I wasn't surprised when one found its way into the tender flesh of my forearm. When the sound of pounding feet echoed around the corridor leading to the Gamemaker's area, I glanced back at Maia, hoping the tears glistening in my eyes weren't too obvious, but she was already gone. I knew that the Avoxes would pester me incessantly into talking with the Gamemakers, but at least Maia wasn't going to get into trouble._

The scene replayed countless times in my mind as I was questioned by the Gamemakers who had rushed to the disturbance of their feast. They warily eyed the sparkling fragments littering the ground as I leaned against the wall. I answered every single question with a neutral answer, giving no hint that someone else was here, let alone the 'girl from district 7'. The crowd of pests finally vacated the scene after ordering a tall female Avox to clean the mess up and replace the window. I slipped away as silently as I could, knowing that, in their state of sobriety, that the memory of _who_ broke the window would fade away, and I would be forgotten as usual. I hoped.

I didn't find myself running into the 'living tree' as I weaved through the hallways to find the elevators.

_Why had I acted like such an ass?_ If there was a genuine answer, it didn't show itself. I moved on to another question. _Did she notice my puffy eyes? Does she know that I wept in that side room? _The obvious answer was yes, but I didn't want to even attempt to comprehend that field of emotions yet. But I had to face the facts.

If she had seen the obvious signs, she would already know that I'm emotionally weak, just another one of the flaws that will most likely have me killed in a horrible way. As the elevator hummed upwards, my thoughts continued at a vigorous pace. _But why was she so angry? I didn't hear any angry yells from her audience._

I stormed out of the elevator, convinced that it had purposely slowed down just to annoy me endlessly. In my own rage, I shot down the requests from Rosalina to calm down and explain what happened with acid in my voice. I slammed the door to my room and collapsed brutally onto the bed, and I finally let the tears flow.

It was far past midnight when I finally woke up, my eyes feeling dry. I could feel the wetness of the bedsheets from my recent breakdown, but I ignored it as a particularly loud rumble ripped through my stomach. I carefully unlocked the door, unnecessarily looking down the hallway both ways before I stepped out of the room. _Save the paranoia for the games, Darryl, it'll only help you there._ The voice that sounded suspiciously like Maia's rang through my head.

_I must be insane, having multiple voices to myself._ I chuckled darkly at the thought, carefully closing the door with a sharp _click._ A dent in the door's smooth, polished wooden surface snatched my attention, and, on further examination, I could see it was clearly the result of hard pounding of a firm hand. _I didn't think Bevan cared so much about me._

Somewhere in my head, I knew that I would be able to order food directly to my bedroom, but I needed to find solace in another place, perhaps one that wasn't so tear stained.

I wasn't paying attention to where my legs were taking me, and I soon found myself in the very same niche Maia confronted me in front of. Shrugging, I moved into the room, no bigger than the small space I had to myself in the 'shack'. The room seemed like a room for whispered conversations, as the door leading to it was expertly covered by a large tapestry that illustrated the Districts' demise. It was adorned with simple emerald green furnishings, with two overstuffed chairs situated in the middle, and the only lighting was a single light bulb that flared unsteadily.

I sat down in the one on the left, and turned my thoughts elsewhere, the evidence of tears already wiped from my face.

Drowning in my thoughts, I didn't hear the soft _whoosh_ of the air near the door being displaced. Still immersed in my own musings, I hadn't hurt the light cracking sound of worn leather being sat on. Only when the blurred image of a hand flashed in front of my eyes was I woken from my reverie. _Damn it, I forgot to put my contacts back in._ I attempted to make out the face of the person who took the seat next to me, but the low lighting held no answers.

"I was wondering when I would see you again." A soft voice whispered softly, the tone oh-so familiar. My face must have been a look of shock, as _she_ sniggered at me.

"What happened this morning?" Maia asked, innocently acting as if she hadn't sliced a minor artery in my arm, albeit unintentionally.

I glanced at her face, and, when the light bulb shimmered brighter for a brief moment, I saw the mask that she adorned in public. I still wasn't able to penetrate her pretense of calm.

"Why do you look as if you're lost?" She interrupted the answer to her first question. Instead of readily giving the answer, I shot back a question.

"Why do you care?" I said simply, loathing and malice gone from my voice, replaced with a weary tiredness. She seemed taken aback by the change of tone from earlier today. _Derryl: 1. Maia: 0. _I started to keep count.

"Because, if you're going to wear contacts for the duration of the game, I was going to recommend that you don't make it obvious to the Gamemakers." She hissed back. My jaw must have dropped without my knowing, and her real grin shone like a beacon. _And it's all tied up, with 1 for all parties._

"Don't act as if it isn't true, your jaw on the floor is proof enough." The thought of pretending she was wrong had barely flitted through my mind before I remembered how to work the muscles connected to my jawbone. _And Maia scores again, winning against Derryl by one so far._

"Back to your first question," I glanced back at her, as if she hadn't stumbled upon something I didn't want to reveal. "What do you want to know?" If she was fazed by the change in topic, it didn't show, and she returned to her original query.

"Why were you crying?" Her bluntness surprised me, but I didn't give her the satisfaction of it showing on my face.

"That's for me to know, and you to never find out." I repeated from earlier. She opened her mouth, as if to pepper me with insults, but she quickly shut it again. _And Derryl ties it up again, with 2._ "I honestly would tell you, but you'd have to tell me why you were stormed out of your session so angrily." Her glare didn't effect me, and I almost laughed at the expression on her face. My scoring was forgotten; I wanted to hear her reply.

"I'm sorry, but that is personal. I don't think I'll share any information until I get the results I _want._" Her voice was dangerously calm, and it shocked me at how much hate could be shoved in a sentence so calm.

"I'll try not to _prod_. How 'bout we both go to bed, because I'm sure our mentors would like to tell us the training scores we missed in the morning." My cutting remark wasn't lost on her, and her mouth opened in a silent 'o' as she realized I had known about her fit of rage as well. _I was the victim of your lamp, why wouldn't I know?_

In a swift move that left me astonished, she had stood up, flicked the light switch off, and shut the door quietly. I made my way to follow her, but as I had finished stumbling around in the dark, she had already disappeared around a corner. Defeated, and with my eyes half open, I stumbled back to the elevators and punched the level four button. When the lift _dinged_ in arrival to the floor I shared with Sasha, I found my way to the door to my bedroom.

When I threw myself onto the bed, I found myself lying awake, hoping for a few hours of fitful sleep that didn't come. Although my body was exhausted, my thoughts were running laps. When the sun shone weakly through the window to my left, I finally caved in to the dark hands of sleep.

My last thought was of the count that I had kept during the entire conversation.

_Derryl: 4. Maia: 4._

**~SFS~**

**Snev's A/N: **_**Subject's chapter is awesome! We all praise the place where he steps! Not really... **_**What! That is IT you guys! If you so much as write a single more WORD from me you'll live (or rather die) to regret it! ;)**

**Foxx's A/N: Hello readers! I'm still not back yet, but I'll go ahead and assume Snev and Sub here got the job done well.**

**Subject's A/N: *yawn* This chapter was entirely me! I can say that I'm proud of it. Sort of. Almost. Whatever. If you're thinking happy thoughts, hit the review button. If your not, hit the review button. It's a win-win situation for all of us!**


	12. What Outfit?

**Snev's A/N: "DON'T YOU DARE WRITE MY BLOODY A/N FOR ME AGAIN OR I'LL SERIOUSLY SHOOT YOU!" … I think you can guess that my nightmare turned into reality. I started writing my own A/Ns! *dun dun dun*!**

**Foxx's A/N: *beep* I am away so blame it all on Snev and Sub *beep***

**Subject's A/N: Snev's A/N rage is frightening me. **_**I solemnly swear that Snev's A/N will stay Snev's A/N.**_** Anyway, read this chapter! The leprechauns command you!**

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 12 - What Outfit?, Smerryl's POV**

I looked up at my stylist's face and then back down at the hideously parasitical clothes laid out in front of me, almost teasing my worse instincts to lash out and wipe that smile off my stylist's smug face.

"What. Have. You. Done." I gaped. After the earlier events of the day I didn't think it could have got worse but they evidently just did. I started off being aroused by a string of ugly words from Bevan's mouth, almost all of him describing me, my personality and my manner of eating asparagus. Then, after resisting the imminent urge to punch Bevan in the gob to shut him up once and for all, I had stormed off, just after hearing my training score from a smug Bevan. A two. A fucking two. While Maia is out there prancing around with a seven.

I thought it went bad but seriously, it was definitely one bad moment when I stepped out and barged right into my escort, just to find out how my day had just been condemned. With them. Maybe I could hide out and strike back in the arena; or maybe not. I had had just about enough after my hours of torture, just to find that I had to have a single lesson with Bevan of how to behave in the interviews. Needless to say; I skived. So yes, that may sound like a bad day, but it just got a hell of a lot worse.

"No." I managed to stammer, "No way, no way am I wearing that."

"I know it's that beautiful, but I felt that even if it could have been put to better use on a more attractive boy, I decided eventually that I wanted you to have it. That I want you to have it." My stylist Honey cooed at me through her perfectly whitened bucked teeth.

The seaweed was a good idea, I'll give her that, even if it ended up with me having a stupid nickname at the hands on Maia. _What do I care? I don't want to know or even think about her. _She wants to hurt me before the arena? Sure, I'm no grass, but she'll have one hell of a time in there with me breathing down her neck. Preferably I'll have the breath of flames. That way it will hurt more for her. Good. Turning back to the 'outfit' I gawked.

The outfit?

Three words:

What.

Fricking.

Outfit!

What I was looking at is undoubtedly and unquestionably the most skimpy outfit seen to man or boy alike. It was so vulgar, so ultimately bare, that I wouldn't want to wear it to my own funeral. And that's saying something since traditionally the dead body is "purged" of all clothes at their funeral in district four.

Honey was forcing me to wear _see-through_. Not your normal, run of the mill clear, but a suit that, in fact I wold barely call I see-though, more like see-none. The only part not shown in sharp relief was the one part of my body I didn't feel like flaunting. It was almost like a jump-suit in style but a much worse fashion statement, if that even was possible.

"I wanted to make the ultimate statement of nudity, but your bossy mentor, Deevan or something, warned us not to do so." Honey continued, oblivious to the disgusted look on my face. For once I could say I actually appreciated Bevan for what he had done for me. My gratitude was of course brief when I remembered all of the horrible, stupid and generally Bevan-like things Bevan had done to me.

"We haven't completely finished the final touches, and there is a little _something_ we need to add before it's ready to be worn." I gaped at her, wondering what else you could put in a virtually nonexistent outfit. I soon found out and my aghast look was wiped off my face completely and replaced with a goofy smile. In a flash of a second I replaced it with a look of respect, but it had been there.

"Honey," I smiled, "you bloody genius!"

I strode as carefully as I could past the door of Maia's dressing room and desperately tried to contain a curse as she stepped out into the open corridor. I hurriedly leapt into a convenient side corridor that was leading off from the one I was in. I peaked past the corner and suppressed a gasp crossed with a bemused chuckle at the sight of Maia's outfit. Maia was wearing, alongside a scowl fixed upon her face, a dress. I never thought I'd see the day when Maia would wear a dress and now I see why. Her almost masculine figure seemed far from home and comfort squashed inside a tight fitting brown and green dress. The brown wasn't a wily hazelnut brown of a delectable chocolate brown, no, it was a dirty muddy brown and the green speckled across her chest, which I assume was meant to represent the dappled sunlight thrown across the leaves, looked like someone had attacked her with a paint pot. Which, knowing stylists, was probably the case.

I hurriedly pulled myself back and watched her storm by, glancing furtively every now and then at her skin which looked dry and cracked and considerably darker than before. Brown. Muddy brown.

**Foxx's A/N: HEEEEEEY! I'm baack. I'm gone ten days and all these two can make is two and a half chapters, *sighs*. But I missed yous! Love you all :{P This chappie was basically all Snev. Ehehe. Reviewing this is what makes the world go round, so review away! Yessums, and, PS, there's something 'special' about this chapter. Figure it out and you get a prize!**

**Subject's A/N: She's BACK! Woohoo! This chapter was really short, apposed to other ones. It was sort of a filler thingo. Foxx is rubbing off on me. :P Anyways, go back and re read the chapter. The first one to comment about finding the 'secret' gets a surprise!**

**Snev's A/N: Oh no. My life just got a lot worse. Foxx returned. Well, yeah, thanks Subject, this was a crap chapter. Nice of you to mention it, alongside the fact that I wrote almost all of it! ;) Ah well, google docs seems to be actually **_**working **_**for me (not for long, but you never know) so suddenly I feel uplifted and ready to write lots and lots more! =D And about the whole "bop" thing. Well, Subject and I had this HUGE battle (me winning of course) about editing this thing back and forth from *beep* to *bop* and so on and so forth... and as I said, I won, so it's called *bop* in this chapter! Well, I hope you enjoyed it and I extra hope you'll review!**


	13. Crap

**Foxx's A/N: G'day my sweets. Having a jolly good time? Well you will be if you read this chapter. Enjoy! PS, I like pie. And I'm super duper hyper - I don't normally do all-nighters, I'm staying awake on adrenaline alone. **

**Snev's A/N: Hi everyone. Because us three have completely different time zones spreading across fourteen hours, me slap bang in the middle, I have found that the only time all four of us are on is my equivalent of really early in the morning. It's a shame because I'm always really tired and off key when I write these. PS, I am in love with Foxx and Subject, literally.**

**Subject's A/N: Hi there! There isn't much to put in this A/N, so enjoy! I'm tired, but don't tell Foxx! P.S. We haven't put this in before, but the main idea of Hunger Games is the sole property of Suzanne Collins. If you sue us, take all the empty coke cans as you want, it's all we have.**

**~SFSFSF~**

**Chapter 9 - Time To Meet The Gamemakers, Derryl's POV**

The third day of training. One day closer to our deaths. To be honest, for a man who was about to die, I felt _normal_. It was if I had just woken up, back in the shack, to my dad waiting with hot tea at the ready. I smiled at the flood of memories that swam to my mind. Some of them were actually enjoyable, except for the image of Diamond within them all. She was like the smudge on a beautiful painting, like a virus. Infected and ugly.

The day passed uneventfully, for the last day of training. Sasha and I floated from station to station, and I kept a wary eye out for Maia and Bella. _Maia, why couldn't I get her out of my head? And why was Bella being so sadistic? Someone must have crapped in her cereal. Speaking of which, maybe I should go do that, just to annoy her. _Before I knew it, the Avoxes were shoving us toward the dining area for lunch in the politest way possible.

I quickly plopped down in a seat, ignoring Sasha as she quickly moved to sit with the Careers. It was quiet in the dining room as everyone ate their lunch alone, keeping to themselves The only ruckus was coming from the Career table, where Sasha and the tributes from districts one and two were laughing raucously at some joke the girl from one - Viola, I think her name was - had said.

Scanning the room, I noticed Maia stand from her seat across the room. Glancing at her quizzically as she strode towards me, it dawned on me exactly what she was doing. _Damn, all she does is follow me around like a lost puppy!_ With a smirk on her face, she cheerily helped herself to the seat opposite me at the table, ignoring my usual death glare.

"Hello there," she says with a wave.

"What happened to not getting buddy-buddy with anyone?" I spat back, meanwhile taking notice of her blue eyes, how clear they are, shimmering like the ocean.

"Oh, that? That ended the second your _friend_ over there," She gestured to Belladonna sitting with the Careers. She continued, "Narrowly missed impaling you via an arrow." I glanced at her quizzically, and she just grinned back.

"Besides, you looked _so_ lonely over here, pouting and sitting by yourself." I punched her in the arm, not missing the wince that flitted across her face. She dug back into her plate, obviously stunned into silence.

I laughed slightly, "Yeah, but _everyone_ is sitting by themselves - besides the careers."

She looked around her as if it was the first time she's actually realised we weren't alone in the room. In mock horror, she exclaims, "I never noticed!"

I shot a lopsided grin towards her and continued eating, my eyes following her every move. _I really am getting obsessed with this girl_.

"You're drooling in your food," Maia said half-heatedly whilst nibbling on a bread roll. She gave me another pointed look and returned to her plate.

We ate for another ten minutes like that, exchanging insults back and forth. Our mindless banter was interrupted by the Head Gamemaker arriving.

"We need," He glanced at the clipboard clutched in his hand, "Victor, from district one." I looked over to the career table where a stocky eighteen-year-old - Victor - stood from his place, his shadow casting a threatening veil over all sitting at the Career table. He casually made his way to the double doors that led to the Gamemaker's area where our skills would be judged, our talent tested, our training scores determined.

I heard Maia snickering across from me, and I took another glance at her. She really was pretty with her dark, wavy hair slightly covering her grey-blue eyes. _Snap out of it you idiot! You're going to have to kill her! _She caught me staring at her, and I quickly looked away.

"Think about it, Derryl. _Victor the victor."_ I laughed at the thought, and almost missed the fact that she called me by my first name, not 'seaweed boy'. I couldn't help but feel pleased at that.

Fifteen minutes passed in silence, as us tributes sat in anticipation. As I started to get bored, the Head Gamemaker stepped through the double doors, looking flushed and clinging on to his clipboard in obvious shock, with the male tribute no where in sight.

"V-V-Viola, please." He stuttered out, and a girl with bouncy strawberry blonde curls stood up. I noted Sasha's murmur of good luck, and turned my attention back to Maia.

"She looks too.. _fashion model_ to be a contender, right?" Maia announced as soon as the double doors closed with a _click_. She brushed her hair behind her ear and leaned back in her chair, relaxing.

I suppressed a laugh at the looks on the Careers' faces when they heard her slanderous remark. "They don't seem to like your disrespect for one of their pack, do they?" I whispered back at Maia, gesturing scathingly at the newly dubbed 'pack'.

Maia didn't respond, instead opting to fiddle with the eating utensils still in front of her. I continued my examination of the fine grain in the table, and waited for the Head Gamemaker to stick his head through those double doors.

"Thor, from district two." Came the wavering voice of the Head Gamemaker yet again, calling for a burly 16 year old a head taller than me and probably fifty pounds heavier than any of the tributes. Thor stood up and sauntered towards the door with a disgusted look on his face. I heard a hiccup, and looked over to the Career table, where Belladonna was giving me her usual incisive glare.

"So Derryl," Maia said with a start, breaking the silence, "What's your plans for your session, eh?"

"That's for me to know, and you to never find out," I said with a wink, tapping the side of my nose. "What about you? Any hidden talents I should know of?"

"Well, I _am_ pretty good in _bed._" She said with an obvious whisper. I rolled my eyes at her, and she just giggled as the tributes closest to us balked at her.

Playing along, I launched into a very detailed and very fictional story on how many women I had bed back in my district, and the same tributes exchanged looks of horror. After a pause, I asked, "Wait, how old are you, again?"

"Fourteen." She responded, with mirth in her eyes, "You?"

"Fifteen," I nodded in reply.

Around an hour later, the Head Gamemaker stomped through the double doors, calling a name I dreaded to hear.

"Derryl, from four." I stood up, my legs numb and my mind blank as to what I was doing. I dimly thought I heard a _'good luck'_ from Maia, but I couldn't be sure.

**Snev's A/N: I managed to contribute a whole sentence and a half to this chapter! Ok, I wasn't exactly onto this one but it was fun to read and I will be onto the next one - watch this space... (Ok don't, it could get a tiny bit boring)**

**Foxx's A/N: Voila! That just reminded of Viola, the D1 tribute, haha. See what we did there? Named her after an instrument, how clever. ;) Did you love this chapter? Hate it? Tell us below in a review. :3**

**Subject's A/N: Ahaha! The title lied! The suspense is killing me as to what Derryl will do! Not really. Us fancy shmancy co-authors already know what's next, but you humble readers may not unless you click that shiny review button that keeps our brains alive and running! That little bit on the forbidden 's' word was purely our teenage minds at perverted work.**


	14. Bring It

**Snev's A/N: No-one is reviewing. No-one even cares. I would have thought that with one of the most popular authors in the hunger games domain (aka - moi) that people would flock over here. But evidently not. Evidently you're just too high and mighty to review for the likes of me. Foxx and Sub, I can understand. No-one wants to review for them, but me? So yeah, I'm having a bit of a rant about nobody reading it to the people who are reading it. Stupid, huh? We only have 182 hits overall. I know. My hits for a story with just TWO chapters so far that I only put up yesterday total more than that (Lost In Translation). Honestly? Pathetic! (-.-) Why don't you just click the next" and "previous" chapter buttons a few hundred times to double that? Because that's what's needed really t keep our ego up. Not mine, obviously. And not Foxx - Foxx doesn't know the definition of the word ego, but Sub. Sub needs it (and it's his profile we're posting this on, remember?). The only solid reviewer who isn't myself (yeah, I'm the second best reviewer - and I write the dratted thing!) is (it's Foxx's thing to mention this so I won't pry) one of my faithful reviewers.**

**Foxx's A/N: Subject and Snev are bummed that no ones reviewing. But I'm going to look at this optimistically and say, thank you to Arcticmist for following our story and being our one faithful reviewer. Oh, and here's the pie that I owe you from chapter nine. *sends virtual pie* Or was is chapter ten? My minds confuzzled. Anyways, if you review, I love you, but beware, when I love someone, it normally involves me eating them.**

**Subject's A/N: Well, I have officially partaken in the wondrous world of ADVERTISING. That's right FFnetters, this is all for you! And someone knock Snev off her high horse. Or low horse. She owns too many horses. We all love you Arcticmist!**

**~SFSFSFS~ 3**

**Chapter 14 - Derryl's POV - Bring It**

"Maia," Caesar greeted her with a nod as I sat in my seat watching her pause with uncertainty. _I hope she doesn't screw this up._ What? Damn that, I hope she dies in a hole for all I care. She should trip on the way to the stage. But obviously it didn't happen and she sunk into the chair without even stumbling slightly. I ignored it then, but a part of me at the back of my mind was slightly relieved that she didn't stumble.

"Maia?" Caesar persisted, and it caused her to jolt her head up in surprise to look at him. It looked like she had just drifted off into a world of her own. _How could she do that with the whole of Panem watching?_

"Uh," she stuttered with a wave, "Hi."

_What is this girl doing? She isn't an airhead! _My nails tore into the soft wood of my chair, and a splinter shot into the soft skin of my finger. Swearing quietly under my breath so as not to alert the cameras, I listened to Maia's interview while ignoring Belladonna's death stares, feigning boredom.

"Hello," answered Caesar, waiting for her to say more. A slightly evil-sounding chuckle resounded from the Capitol audiences.

Her face flushed pale, anxiety evident in her eyes. "Great weather, ain't it?" she asked, obviously saying the first thing that popped in her mind.

_Is she drunk!_ _Who mentions the ever-perfect weather of the Capitol in an interview! What angle is she playing?_

"It's always like this in the Capitol," Caesar replied, trying to prompt her on,"Would you say that the weather is your favourite thing here?"

She paused for a second, "Er, what would you say if I were to say yes?"

"Well, I would say that I agree with you, naturally." Caesar flattered, causing a shy smile to flutter onto Maia's face. Suddenly her cheeks flushed an anxious red.

_Why? I never imagined Maia as the person to me shy._ But then again, people do weird things under the harsh sweat and attention of the whole nation gawping at them all at once. _It's almost like being an exhibit in one of those weird places the Capitol calls a zoo._

The image of my utter failure on stage flashed to the forefront of my mind, and I groaned inwardly. _I honestly hope they bought it, it was hard enough acting like a complete and utter dumb ass._

"Then," she perked up, "I think the weather is amazing and is my favorite thing about my trip here in your beautiful city." Aside from the ugly color of mud and the odd splatter of grotty dark green paint, her dress fit her body perfectly, enhancing her few curves before it got to the waist, where it hung down like a potato sack. Luckily, the camera operators had the sense to zoom in and only film her top half, the brown in the dress bringing out the wild naturalness in her. Under the stage lighting, it matched her deep dancing grey-blue eyes and dark chestnut brown, almost black hair with ease. She was beautiful.

_Damn it Derryl! You'll most likely be the one to KILL her! Romantic ploys are nothing but a burden in the arena!_ Despite my misgivings, I continued to watch her be an idiot, trying not to dwell on visual looks.

Caesar laughed softly and smoothly changed the topic of conversation, "So, Maia, a training score of 7. Mind telling us what you did in there to get such an impressive score?" He hardly whispered the sentence, beckoning Maia closer as if in secrecy, but each and every word echoed loudly through the speakers dotting the vast space.

I noted a cheeky glint in her eye as Maia leaned forward towards Caesar, him doing the same in reply, as she whispered oh-so softly, "One word." She paused for a moment, suspense playing throughout the room, tense anticipation suffocating everyone. "Gotcha!" she said.

Most of the tributes jumped at this exclamation, including me. _Damn you, Maia. I almost believed you._ Belladonna had outwardly gasped, losing her composure for a second. The crowd was busy recovering from the wave of laughter that overtook them. Caesar looked surprised, but didn't react. _I wonder if all of the plastic surgery removed the ability to be react. _And that's when I realized how good an actor Maia was. . . When she tries.

Moving quickly to the next question, Caesar continued the interrogation. "You led us on for a moment, Maia! The suspense was _killing_ me." The crowd laughed at the face he made, happy for a change.

"Not that anyone here would want _you_ dead, Caesar." Winking, Maia laughed along with the crowd. When the alarm signifying the end of three minutes went off, Caesar hastily shoved Maia off the stage.

_Those were an extremely long three minutes. I'm glad someone else can go embarrass themselves._ When the next tribute proceeded to the stage, my eyes followed Maia. She looked proud of herself. Although she had upstaged all of us, I felt really glad she recovered so easily from her terrible beginning. _Or was it all part of the plan?_

The rest of the interviews went by in a blur - my mind was too preoccupied thinking about Maia. The way her shimmering hair fell in waves down her back, and the sweet blue glisten in her eyes, and he cocky attitude that could not be disliked at all. _Stop it now. _I needed to have mutual feelings towards her, at least, if I was going to kill her when it came to that arena.

The arena. Was I prepared? No one was ever prepared for the arena. With twenty-three other tributes desperate to get home. Did I even stand a chance? I felt that I did, but in hind-sight, did I? Did I really have what it takes?

Dinner was uneventful, but lying in bed that night, worries raked through my body. _Tomorrow I will be in the arena. Tomorrow I could be dead. This time tomorrow night I could be back home, dead in a box and getting prepared for burial._

But should I really care? There's nothing for me back in district four. _I'll be in the Games tomorrow? Bring it._

**Foxx's A/N: 12.44AM on a school night! Feeling like a rebel. Life is Beautiful. -WATCH THAT MOVIE! Yeah, it's in Italian and has subtitles, but so what? BEST FREAKING MOVIE. Just putting it out there. On another note, review, tell us what you think, and I'll give you more pie! *hands over virtual pie***

**Snev's A/N: My little rant earlier was just me venting off anger and hoping an unknown reviewer would pop out of nowhere. You may be thinking that we have loads of reviews, but that's basically me and Foxx pranking Sub and stopping him quitting. Stalling the inevitable in a way. Yes, this is a comedy now. We've decided it. Some things, such as the ending, are just going to happen like that. None of us own the huger games, that's Suzanne Collins, and we really need reviews. I give a permanent content warning here, because there is swearing in this, from Foxx and Sub mainly, and I want to make sure your innocent ears have earmuffs on for the necessary moments.**


	15. PostInterview Confrontations

**Foxx's A/N: I'm too school for cool. Review! - simple as.**

**Sub's A/N: Thank you, Foxx, for the **_**wonderful **_**censored A/N. This is most likely the final chapter before the Games, and you vicious readers are in for a surprise when they start. But our computers run on reviews, which we're on a shortage of. Come on people!**

**Snev gets no A/N because she is cool like that. ;P**

**~FSSFSSFSSFSS~**

**Chapter 15: Post-Interview Confrontations, Maia's POV.**

It was official: Nadelle and Damien were the worst mentors in the history of Panem. Not ten seconds had passed after the interviews until Dumb and Dumber had ambushed me.

I was getting sick of all their vague advice. The only valid information was a bit on finding water and watching out for the career pack. Well, thank you Captain Obvious, but I already knew those basic rules.

Anyone with half a brain knows they need water and you would be one dumb dipshit if you didn't watch out for the careers. Of course I didn't say anything like that. I just simpered sweetly and gave them the finger behind their backs, that was satisfying enough.

I walked down the hallway, with no idea where I was going. The interviews were over, the day was gone as was the night, and I was still restless. The hunger games start in exactly one hour and my pajama clad body better be ready. The only sound distinguishable was my shoes pounding on the tiled floor. But, all too soon, I was joined by the boy wonder - seaweed boy.

"You okay?" I whipped around to see none other than seaweed boy grinning at me. _Yep, definitely stalking me_.

"Depends." I grunted.

"On what?" He asked me as I whipped my face around to actually look at his.

"How many sponsors I got yesterday compared to how many you got."

"Ooh, the competition's heating up, eh?" he joked.

"Don't joke. It doesn't suit your personality. Not that anything is suitable for a boring stick in the mud. " I snapped in crude reply and charged off down the corridor.

"Yeah?" His voice echoed down the hall towards me as I walked away, "Well be careful, because every time you frown, someone gets eaten by a huge man-eating hedgehog. And you've been doing a lot of frowning lately."

"Real mature, seaweed boy!" I yelled but it didn't work and he had already gone by the time the corridor took the echo up for me.

Still fuming from the pointless row Derryl had dragged me into, I continued storming down the corridor towards the hovercraft hanger. It's time to go up top! Mixed emotions were brewing inside me. On the whole, I was nervous; anxiety had gripped me all over; but another part of me was excited, anticipating the Games that was to come. I stopped myself - it was wrong to be like that, thinking like a career. I stepped in the lift meant to be going towards the hovercraft boarding just to find none other than Belladonna there.

I couldn't exactly hop out or I'd be more of a target in the arena, so I clenched my jaw and stepped in, trying to retain a little dignity before I went faced a brutal beating in a suit of mud. _What the hell. I'm going to die today if I rub this bitch the wrong way or not, I might as well have a bit of fun while I'm at it._

"Hey poison! I heard you were getting a bit drippy lately." I said, causing her head to whip around in a jerking motion.

"Alright, that's it. I should of killed you ages ago-" Her fierce growl frightened me slightly, but I plowed on.

"Should _have_. Should have, would have, could have." I replied. "If you're going to threaten to kill me, at least be dignified enough to not slaughter the wonderful grammar English language as well."

"Listen punk-" She attempted to growl again, slightly disturbed at the cheek I was showing her

"I'm getting rather tired of that phrase, drippy." I cut in and roll my eyes at her.

"Drippy!" Belladonna shrieks at me and I back up slightly, but not without a few snide retorts.

"Yeah, Bell. Drippy. Like dripping poison, the fact that it's all gone and how useless you are and stuff. I was going to call you marigold but I decided against it."

The lift jolted to a stop, the doors sliding open onto her floor, but she refused to get out.

"MARIGOLD!" Belladonna shrieked again, almost busting my ear drums.

"Yeah, like the flower. Perfectly harmless, and flawlessly delicate. But it's pretty, And let's face the facts here, you don't exactly slip into that agenda do you?"

"THAT IS IT PUNK! I'M THROUGH WITH YOU AND YOUR LITTLE DISTRICT FOUR BUDDY!" The shriek echoed out of the elevator, and a blonde head poked out of one of the doors. Before the woman could see us arguing, the doors slid shut, and the lift continued to move upwards. _This is more fun then I thought! I need to end it though. No reason to get caught by the incompetent fools dubbed my mentors._

"Stop calling me punk, it's not very tactful. And seaweed boy is not my 'buddy', I hate him as much as you. No, more." I added just before she lunged at me and tried to pin me to the wall.

A few moments passed: her pinning me against the wall, a smile faintly sitting on my face. She smirked, pulling back. "You know what?" she said, "Enjoy the next few minutes of you life before the Arena. In just one hour, you will be dead."

"Minutes? I'm flattered. You won't last a second before you fall off your plate and get your fat arse blown to smithereens." I struggled to remove myself from her hold, but she's too strong. _I know I'll overpower her in the Arena._

This comment was promptly greeted by a stinging kick in the ribs.

"Well who's the rebel?" I gasp, "Fighting before the arena? Lucky I'm a pacifist."

"A pacifist?" Asks Belladonna.

"Yeah, someone who thinks fighting is wrong. It's a word taught to infants. But I wouldn't suspect you to have reached that level yet." My retort earned me another blow to the ribs. _This is getting dangerous. What would Derryl do..._

"I know what a bloody pacifist is!" she yells at me, drilled to the bone with rage.

"Temper, temper." I pat her on that auburn frizzy head of hers and then, after hurriedly kneeing her in the stomach, I quickly departed the lift, which had conveniently stopped on my floor. _Well, soon-to-be killers need their sleep._ _This should be entertaining_.

I looked back over my shoulders, where the lift doors were closing on the look of pure hatred that adorned Belladonna's face. _Hm. She looks mad. _I quickly stuck my tongue in her direction, which solicited a swear that was quickly blocked by the shut lift doors.

By the way - I'm not a pacifist. I just said that to annoy her. Ah well, I think I succeeded in that. At least I had some fun before I die.

After a short trip in a hovercraft punctuated with a tracker being inserted into my arm painfully, I entered the room known to us tributes as the 'Stockyard' and barged in on my stylist - Mylan, snogging Derryl's stylist - Honey.

"What is going on here!" I yelled and Mylan and Honey looked up at me, shocked to have just been interrupted.

"Oh, I better just, go... if the tributes have arrived and everything then Derryl will be waiting and-" Honey tried to explain, quivering in fear.

"Oh no you don't - you're staying right here and explaining _everything."_ I demanded in my most commanding voice. Naturally she scuttled off, leaving me with Mylan.

"There w-w-w-was nothing going on here, Maia. N-n-nothing at all." Mylan stuttered, rearranging his toupee and wiping the green lipstick off of his cheek, chin, lips, forehead, and neck. Not to mention his thigh. I could only imagine the dirty things they must have been getting up to if there was lipstick _there_. Except I didn't really want to."Sh-sh-shall we go?" I nodded humorously. _Do they honestly think I care about a stupid Capitol romance? I will probably die, and romance is just a waste of my last few precious days. Though thinking about it..._

"Honey!" I called out and she zoomed back into the room, having obviously been eavesdropping. "The deputy-head Gamemaker asked me to tell you that you left your short black nightie, not the burgundy silk but the really short black lacy one, in his room last night and to pick it up as soon as possible because his wife's coming over tonight."

And with the crushed look on my stylist's face, I entered the launch room, readying myself to see what clothes I would have to wear as tribute. I hastily tore off my pajamas in favor of the tribute outfit - A slim-fitting shirt made of some synthetic material, I guessed to trap body heat or something, and plain denim paints that would be of no help at all. The shoes fit the sole of my feet perfectly and had good grip; they would be great for running. Mylan was still standing dazed by the door when he suddenly broke into wracking sobs. A little grin crept onto my face and I stepped onto the launch pad, waiting for it to rise and bring me to my coming doom.

**Snev's A/N: Right, end of chapter. This was an equal three way split this chapter and we all did as much as the other, I'm glad to say. The time distances are mental though. I'm in the middle for them so Foxx stays us late, Sub gets up early and I get shoved into doing it in the middle of the day when everyone else would be doing things. But I don't mind because I'm not everyone else! ;D**

**Foxx's A/N: Hi. *double yawn* SO TIRED. Sub and Snev bully me into staying awake to help finish this even though I've got school tomorrow. *points finger***

**Subject's A/N: *yawn* This chapter is hot off the press! Review! I am submitting a formal request. By the way, the chapters are written about 3 days BEFORE they are published. A chapter a day keeps the reviews coming in( - or not in our case(Snev).) **

**...**

**As Foxx has told you, I cannot rhyme. **


	16. Blood Will Flow

**Snev's A/N: Here we are in yet another chapter from none other than us. I have decided every chapter, to keep you reading, I will disclose some personal secrets about how I get so many hits and A/Ns, some are boring, some are fun, some are probably morally wrong, but they get you the hits you need... This week's hint is as follows: signed reviews. If you give people good signed reviews everyone knows that it means that they'll be aware you exist and might even check some of your stories out. But it's who to target that's the key - new authors; new stories. They're desperate for reviews, and if it's their first review on a story or ever they'll zoom over to your profile and fall just where you need them (no, not in your lap Foxx) - reading your stories, and therefore reviewing it too. You don't even have to like the dratted story you review, or even read it for a matter of fact. Just submit a review like this "Cool. * is awesome and a great character. Update soon." and substitute "*" for the first name you see. Therefore it seems personal and they think you're read it. That's hint number one and sounds positively evil. Mwahahahaha! And Subject - the new fic idea is great. it could be a cunning ploy just to get more reviewers...**

**Subject's A/N: We really are sorry we haven't been posting. My life is really screwed up right now… Anyway, I really did enjoy reading Snev's A/N last chapter, and she's right. We did split the work evenly. Unfortunately, we are about four chapters ahead of usual schedules, so, by the time you read this, we'll be on chapter twenty. Oh boy. Foxx has given in to the vile temptations of sleep, and we have to wait for her. Please don't mind Snev's rant. She's in that awkward stage where she just won't SHUT UP. I swear to god, I think she's going to start a new fiction, "**_**How to get more reviewers." **_**Anyway, review! By the way, we might start having more than one POV in a chapter. Just a heads up if we do.**

**Foxx's A/N: **_**Subject is a hunk who is nothing like Kurk or Kirk and Snev's such an awesome babe - she's like, the best of the best. **_**This is the first time Sub and Snev have hacked my A/N. I'm proud of you two, my little minions; I have taught you well.**

**~SFSFSFSFS~**

**Chapter 16: Blood Will Flow, Derrryl's POV**

"Blood will flow, blood will flow, blood will _flow_..." The mad tribute who I had thought was the guy from district twelve to my left cackled endlessly, his lazy eye fixed on a point above my head. I was trying to stem the mass hysteria starting to invade my mind, and his rant wasn't helping.

_All you have to do is wait for the gong. When it rings, RUN._ I stared around the arena, trying to take as much in as possible. Ok, ok. There was some sort of river or something to my right, so wide it was a stretch to call it a river. It was relatively straight but slowly meandered down the hillside. It was probably the only source of water for a mile or so.

Then there was something behind me, and as I twisted around I saw a small collection of little mud huts clumped together surrounding a well, like a little settlement by here. _Well, I just found the career's hideout._ To my left there was long fields of meshed grass, golden but with flickers of different colours speckling in them that you could only catch out of the corner of your eye. There was probably hidden danger's in the grass.

_Snakes, rats, even wolves. In that grass, you could hide though. _Past that there were empty livestock fields or maybe even meadows at a pinch which slowly turned into a forest, dark and foreboding with clumps of tangled weeds and brambles lining the edges and stinging nettles that looked larger than me even at that distance, and it caused me to squint to select them out from under the hot searing sun.

And that was it. You couldn't get past the river and even if you did you'd be confronted with the same endless fields of barley, rye and different pieces straw and plants that I couldn't even imagine in my wildest dreams. Behind the mud huts the fields went on too, until the deep forest claimed that too.

It looks like a pretty simple and straightforward arena to me, dive into the nearest cover which is of course the long grass and my life will be saved. The ground around the arena is cracked and dry earth, the same sun-baked colour as clay. But now my attention turned to the golden cornucopia in front of me.

The single empty space claimed by the Cornucopia was expansive, and the supplies were breathtaking. Spears, axes, swords, knives, food, bags, even a tent could be seen. I looked for the supplies closest to me. A pair of wooly socks, which looked just about as out of place as a polar bear would have been here, useless. I scanned closer and saw some sunblock. Useful under the heat, but not essential. Maybe I'll grab that on my way in. As I locked eyes onto a small water container I grinned inwardly. Bingo, and I'd scoop the sunblock up too on my way there, and a small little pouch filled with something lay close by. Yet another thing to snatch. This should be a piece of cake.

I looked across the way, where Maia was situated on her very own steel plate. Sasha, conveniently, was situated next to her. Belladonna was 4 spaces to my right, and was attempting to give death glares to both Maia and I. I tried to catch Maia's eye, but her gaze was firmly fixed on a collection of axes twenty meters in front of her. _Don't go for it Maia! _She neglected to notice the District One boy was eyeing the same collection of weapons.

The gong went off. _What am I meant to do? What am I meant to do? Argh! Shit!_ Maia's already got to the centre of the cornucopia and is scooping up all the good things! _Grab the wooly socks and leg it!_ I dived forwards, pushing the boy from twelve into the awaiting spear of a career, gripped the wooly socks in my clammy hands and ran like my life depended on it. Which it did, by the way.

I dodged a thrown spear, and it stuck into the ground near my foot. Thinking quickly, I wrenched it out of the ground and kept running. I spotted a clear bottle near me, and ran towards it. Before I had wrapped my hand around it, an arrow had whisked through the air, and punctured it, inches from taking a few of my fingers with me. I looked behind me, and I could see the tribute with the arrows have a knife plunged into her spine.

She coughed violently, blood spewing from her mouth in every direction. Her death brought the carnage around me to the forefront of my mind. While some tributes were running away, to the fields, huts, or forest, others were busy stabbing, choking, breaking, or mutilating the other tributes. While I was busy watching the carnage, the ever-present Careers swarmed towards me. Dropping the punctured bottle, I ran.

I tore off into the mud huts. _Err, what am I doing? I was going in the wrong direction. I meant to have got into the long grass for cover._ _Shit!_ I looked around desperately, the careers are blocking the way to the long grass. _I'll have to go through the village and go around the other side now. Argh!_

I ran through the village, my chest suddenly tightening and I start wheezing uncontrollably. _Now is not the time to discover I have asthma_! I tell my body that I have to settle into a steady jog just to quell my aching ribs and keep myself going. _Run Derryl, run. _A spirited almost angel-like voice echoed into my head.

"It's easy enough for you to say, you're not the one who's running." I wheeze quietly. _Great, now I'm even talking to myself. Things just get better and better._ Suddenly, I heard real running footsteps behind me and the laughter of the careers. _Crap, crap, crap!_ I lunged into the closest mud hut and scraped along the floor, and ducked below the hole that they call a window and peeped slightly out of it to see what's happening.

_Belladonna is leading the career pack, all intact unfortunately, towards me._ Towards me? Fuck! I pressed myself further into the scraping wall. They didn't seem to have noticed my presence at all and were aimlessly wandering my way. My body tensed as the cannon fire from the bloodbath rang out. Nine. Nine dead. I saw the dead body of Maia, broken and mutilated. _Get these thoughts out of your head! She would not have died like that!_ Distracted from my thoughts, a voice rang out, shockingly close to the hut I was hidden in.

"Right, go off, do your thing, get ready and set up camp. Tonight, we hunt." Belladonna commanded and the Careers scurried off into separate huts. Belladonna stood there, pausing, and headed straight towards me. In my hut. _Fuckity shitty poo!_ I ducked down under the window and scrunched up my eyes in the hope and desperation that someone or something would stop her coming my way. Evidently they either didn't exist or didn't listen because Belladonna stepped into the hut. So naturally I lunged at her. Without thinking I threw myself at an unsuspecting vicious career who hated my guts and tackled her to the floor with surprising strength as she crumpled down underneath me like a sack of potatoes.

I soon realised the reason she had been tackled to the floor with amazing ease, with no effort on my part. There was the girl from district five just standing there with a large rock in hand, which matched the shape of the dent in Belladonna's head. She was just unconscious, though it looked like the girl from five was just about to do a lot worse. And then she turned on me...

**Snev's A/N: *dun dun dun*! You can see the trademark style of a Snev cliffhanger above. You see the trademark wooly socks? Yours truly wrote that alongside most of the chpter there. Wow! People started reviewing! I'm impressed! But yeah, that was only because we roped you into it and my brilliant synopsis. Read and review for another cheeky how-to-make-people-read-and-review-your-story fic next chapter. Ironic how I'm posting this in a not very reviewed fic; but that's because Sub got bored of following all of the instructions I set him...**

**Foxx's A/N: Seriously? Hacking my A/N once, I can handle. Twice is just too far. And I haven't contributed to this chapter in anyway, just saying. Because I have a life, that involves sleeping. Yeah, I sleep for a living. It's a pretty good pay, ya know! Though now I'm depressed that I didn't get to contribute one bit to the bloodbath chapter! Oh well, since Snev and Sub ain't here, I'll just go off and write all of the next chapter, mwahaha.**

**Sub's A/N: Ah, the language is getting worse! Who cares, it adds 'character' to a story. This chapter was mostly Snev, give her a round of applause! *claps* But I'm the one had to go back and change everything to PAST TENSE. Old habits die hard, and hers are slowly bleeding to death. Very slowly... Anyway, this story looks like it has promise!**


	17. Gallivanting

**Foxx's A/N: I'm alone. Poo. PS, I'm pissed that Sub calls Koalas 'Koala Bears'. They ain't freaking bears. They're marsupials. They're Koalas! Turns out I am required to write a super-duper long A/N. So I am just going to let you know - as if I haven't reminded you guys enough - that I absolutely love pie. Pie is just the food every created by man. Just putting it out there.**

**Snev's A/N: *At the beach with my sister's best friend's family because I steal her friends for the lack of my own. Currently not contributing to the writing of this chapter***

**Subject's A/N: Hello faithful and unfaithful readers! We hope you like this chapter, just 'cause the bloodbath took forever. Thankfully, we are still two chapters ahead of schedule.**

**~SFSSFSFSSFSS~**

**Chapter 17: Gallivanting, Maia's POV**

I gaped, appalled, at the gushing wound along my left forearm. A bubble of blood dripped down my arm, entwining through my fingers. A stinging pain gnawed at the arm and I bit my lip not to cry. If I needed sponsors - which I certainly did - then I needed to show no pain, to prove myself worthy. The sun was blistering in the sky, no clouds in sight, the heat was awfully suffocating and it took effort to stop myself from cringing. I heard cannon fire ring out nine times, and my thoughts flickered to Derryl. _Please don't be dead!_ Trying to clear my mind of him, I started to walk.

I stumbled through some of the long grass, attempting to find an area devoid of the retched plants. _Dear god, please don't let me have allergies!_ It took almost 45 minutes of walking to find a strip of cleared land, and when I finally came across one, I collapsed with relief. Worried about the large collection of dried blood congealed on my arm, I set to tending the wound.

I ripped a piece of cloth from the bottom of my shirt and wrapped it around the wound. Fortunately, it wasn't too deep, the worst that could happen is that it would scar._ But who would care about a measly scar? _Trying to ignore the receding pain in my arm, I started to take an inventory of all the supplies I had grabbed: a small brown backpack that was maddeningly empty of contents, a small carving knife, a small pack of assorted nuts, and, best of all, a single, beautiful axe that had a glistening, sharp edge. _I tried to get the rest, but that damn Career interfered! _Although there was only one, I couldn't believe the luck I had. Back in the lumber district, axe working was essential. _Now why would that tiny bag have been in the center of the Cornucopia? _

Curious, I moved to get the rest of the supplies into the small brown backpack, but I was shocked at the unnecessary in the bag. _What the hell? It feels like there's a ton of bricks in here!_ Reaching into it, there appeared to be nothing. Unfazed, I groped at the bottom, searching for the small catch I knew was there.

_Aha!_ By pulling a loose string, the bottom of the bag fell out, and it billowed outwards. I jerked backwards, the 'bag' folding and rearranging itself. _Holy cow!_ After all movement had stopped, I looked at where the bag had once been. In its place, a tent had been erected, level with the wheat around me. _No wonder this was in the center! _The tent was the same texture as the plants, it's camouflage removing it from the site of others. _YES!_

I ducked into the entrance and found myself in a small room, shielded from the pounding sunlight shining endlessly in the Arena. I expected the tent to roast me alive, insulating the heat, but instead, I was actually _cold_. _So it keeps out the heat, too? I wonder if it comes with a TV. I wonder what the Gamemakers think now._ I knew my new sanctuary was most likely laced with cameras, but I could care less. Stepping out, I proceeded to move my supplies in.

Having finished settling in to my tent, I let the events of the day wash into my thoughts. Then suddenly, it dawned on me. _I wounded that boy. _The one from district one, the Career, Victor; the one who had darted for the same axes I had. He was a trained killer and I was a mere girl who worked in the lumberyard, yet I had managed to wound him. Possibly fatally, by the look of the gash he limped away with in his leg. Then another thought struck me. _He actually ran away. From me! _Yeah, sure, there were probably bigger people for him to worry about and he wanted all the supplies from the Cornucopia, but that was besides the point.

"Shit," I swore aloud, indifferent to anyone who may overhear. I had suddenly realised my biggest mistake. After gaining all these wicked items, I still had no water and just a couple nuts. A few days and I would be dead, if I didn't find some water. My tongue was already dry. I thought back to the bloodbath, picturing what I knew of the arena in my head. _Well, _I thought, _there's that river, but it looked so far away. I could die of dehydration on my way walking there, in this horrid heat._

"Shit," I swore again. Freaking hell, I was so stupid. It was still daylight and I had already set up for sleep. _I should keep going; set up some distance between me and the other tributes first! _I paused, then argued with myself, _but that's what they'll expect you to do. You could go back and spy on the careers. They would never know you were there! But what if they caught me? They won't. You don't even know how to fold the tent -peasy-bright-and-squeezy. But there's Bella, and the district one guy would want revenge. But they'll never know you were there. Bella can probably smell me! Stop making up bullshit, Maia, she won't smell you. You are a professional thief back home so you can be a professional thief here. Fine, but I hate you._

I rubbed at my temples: arguing with yourself hurts. If I kept it up, I would probably turn into some crazy old cat lady. Having decided to turn back and spy on the careers, I swiftly packed all my supplies, finding the tent surprisingly easy to morph back into the bag. _Just one string, eh? I would've enjoyed more of a challenge. Not that finding water is an easy task... _

My thighs burned, my calf muscles ached, my feet stung with every step. I had spent all day walking into my grassy home, and now the sun was setting and I hadn't arrived at the careers' camp yet. At least the oncoming darkness would bring a slight drop in temperature from the heat. Hopefully. _You never know WHAT the Gamemakers plan to do. _As I walked, worries raced through my mind, even things I hadn't thought about since I was reaped: What was it Jessamine wanted oh-so desperately tell me in the goodbyes but didn't get the chance? Was it something bad? And how was mum handling this right now, watching me? Was she proud I survived, cheering me on? Or had she already accepted me death? The sky was darkening rapidly, and I looked up.

The night brings the faces of the dead, and I was positively _anxious_ to see who appeared. The question of Derryl's survival was nagging me, along with my terrible thirst and growing hunger. I paused mid-hike as the Panem's anthem rung throughout the arena and looked up in the sky to see the faces appear. Both from district three, so obviously the careers from one and two made it, including Bella and Victor, the guy I 'fatally' injured. I guess it wasn't so fatal.

Followed was the boy from five. That meant Derryl was still alive and kicking. Maybe not kicking, he could've be lying half-dead in a puddle for all I knew. I couldn't fight back the sigh of relief, but it was short lived. Next was the girl from six, _Rathead_, and then both from eight. So, Saxon had survived too. It was most likely everyone was probably to scared to even go near him, being the intimidating boy he is. Then both faces from eleven and the boy from twelve shone in the sky. I hesitated at that: the autistic girl had survived. _I wonder how that happened._

That was nine dead. Fifteen left alive in the arena. Fourteen more deaths needed for me to go home. And one of those deaths included Derryl's. Hopefully someone else would get to him first.

**Foxx's A/N: Mwahaha! I have succeeded in getting Subject addicted to wattpad! Unlike some people... *points finger at Snev*. Yeah, and see what we did there with that chapter? Entertaining, yet absolutely nothing happened. Bam. Oh look, it's midnight, again. On a school night, again. *sighs***

**Snev's A/N: **_***I have a life, unlike Foxx and Subby.* **_**Thank you. Even though I actually didn't contribute to this chapter because I was gallivanting off the the beach (gallivanting - don't you just love that word?) I'm not going to leave you lot without your hint for this chapter on how to get hits and reviews. This chapters' hint: one-shots. Now, there's two ways you can swing them into advantage of your main story. Number one: do an array of different one-shots for different non-main-story related things in the same topic. This means more people will be aware of your presence on here. Number two is a bit more direct, however. Number two: create one-shots branching off from the main story, like little scenes you never included, to entice people in. Because if they read that and like it they might go on and read what it was branched off, which is always a good thing. Either way you'll probably get more reviews and hits. End of chapter's hint. ;D**

**Subject's A/N: Foxx has succeeded in getting me addicted to Wattpad. It's like fiction press****. But cooler. Anyway, Snev had no influence in this chapter, and it shows. Let's hope for more, but, as always, we have chapters left over. And some one-shot ideas... It's too bad Snev's tip was what Foxx and I were planning on doing...**


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